Gundam Seed: Redemption
by Blazing Firefox
Summary: He had done it; he had killed the source of all this conflict. All this death. He had killed Rau Le Creuset, and with this, the war would end. It had to, right?
1. Why Are We Here?

... Alright, so, this is the culmination of the past... two days of work. Well, that plus three days of planning. And months of UST (Unresolved Storytelling Tension, for those clearly unfamiliar with my self-proclaimed talent for spinning things like that). But that's all irrelevant. The point is, I've been toying various ideas for a Gundam Seed fic from the moment I finished watching Destiny. And then that was strengthened after reading the likes of Maderfole's Gundam Seed: Chaotic Cosmos and known as r's Humanity's Judgment, neither of which actually influenced this idea.

No, what influenced this idea was three things. First and foremost, my intense hatred of Destiny (except for Kira; I really liked Kira in Destiny) and it's seeming replication of the first season with small changes. Second, my dislike of the fact that many Seed plot-fics either portray him as either too nice/weak or completely evil (Humanity's Judgment falls into the latter), and that I disagree with both characterizations of Kira. And lastly, I decided I wanted to play out an idea in which Lacus is assassinated, as per several rumors that a sequel to Destiny would involve her assassination.

This fic will be one of two things, depending on reception of it. As it stands it is a one-shot set in the Adventure genre, perhaps to be considered an alternate take on the end of Seed. If reception of the idea is sufficient, though, I will go ahead with my other plans for this fic and it will become an Adventure/Romance plot-fic, like most of my work (Carpé Diem has hardly gotten off the ground yet, so I reserve the right to exclude it for now). I'll leave that decision up to my faithful readers, as I believe this fic will be just fine either way. At the very least, this chapter satisfies me.

So... have at it.

* * *

"We..."

There was nothing. His eyes were wide open, taking in everything there was to be seen, yet he could see none of it. His senses had been numbed, along with everything else. He could see nothing, hear nothing... feel nothing. Was there anything to be felt, though? Was there anything left to be felt, to be heard, to be seen? After all, he'd done his duty, right? He had done it; he had killed the source of all this conflict. All this death. He had killed Rau Le Creuset, and with this, the war would end. It had to, right? It would only make sense.

But even so, there were so many questions he felt he had to ask. Would the war truly end? Would the deaths of those pushing the war truly be enough to allow the rest to look toward a bright future? Or were they being too idealistic, thinking that such a simple course of action would end the war? Kira had never truly hated anyone, not enough to truly wish them dead anyway, and so he could hardly say he knew how deep the hatred between Naturals and Coordinators ran. Well, he had hated Athrun enough to see him dead, but there had been a lot of tension at the time, and that hatred wasn't wholly his own. This hatred, though... It was bad enough that Naturals and Coordinators weren't entirely against the idea of completely destroying the other, though, right? That being so, Rau Le Creuset, Patrick Zala, and Blue Cosmos were not necessarily alone in their ideals.

... Well, perhaps Rau Le Creuset was. But having his ideals agreed upon was a terrifying prospect.

"Why are we here?"

Despite it all, he couldn't help asking that question. This isn't what he had wanted. Not even a year ago he had been a student, a brilliant one at that, with a bright future. He could have gone anywhere he wanted. He had wanted to do something to do with computer science. Something that he could fill the lonesome and boring days with, to give him excitement. Something that he enjoyed.

But he didn't enjoy killing. He didn't enjoy being humanity's hope for survival. All that weight, all that dependence... he had never asked for it. He hadn't asked to be the Ultimate Coordinator. They were all forced upon him, against his will. Why, though? Couldn't he have escaped it? Was he doomed from the start to be where he is now, drifting aimlessly, motionlessly? He could tell that he was alive, if only because he had recently grown aware of the fact that he could see small stars in the endless expanse of black above him. But that wasn't enough. He shouldn't have felt like this. Once upon a time, he had been delighted simply to receive praise for a job well done at the college on Heliopolis.

Now, that same sense of completion was accompanied simply by knowing he had killed a madman. He felt as though he'd done the greatest of deeds simply because he'd ended the life of another. Which wasn't wrong, necessarily... It just didn't make him happy. Knowing he felt joy at the loss of another's life, no matter whom the person, didn't make him happy. It made him feel empty, hollow. That feeling, which had once allowed him to sleep with a smile on his face and go into the next day with a spring to his step, now accompanied the knowledge that he had taken a life.

He hated that feeling, now.

It was painful to move, but he strained his head regardless. He knew he had to. He would soon lose consciousness, and inevitably die. He could feel the life in him draining out of the gaping wound in his chest. The blood hadn't yet made itself visible through his suit, but he knew it was there. He could tell, though he could not even feel it. He was glad for it, too. After all he had done, he could die in peace. He would die painlessly, as he had always hoped to. He would die with a heavy heart, perhaps, but it would be painless at least in the physical sense. And perhaps his death, untimely though it was, would be a good thing. He had sinned, he had killed... he needed redemption.

Redemption. That word tore at his mind like an angry headache that refused to subside. It so aptly described what his life had amounted to. Time after time, his actions were determined by the need for redemption. He had killed Sir Waldtfeld's lover, and he had offered his life in turn for that. He had been denied the opportunity to die then, but now...

Now he could truly die. Killing that first man in Heliopolis, killing Sir Waldtfeld's lover, killing Nicol, killing all those people... he could finally let the guilt consume him. He had never wanted to kill any of them, perhaps, but it had been necessary at the time. It was kill or be killed. Either he killed them or they killed not only him, but his friends and those whom he considered a second family. Murrue, Sai, Miriallia... even Dearka, though neither knew the other well. They were comrades, and that made him Kira's friend. They would be sad to learn he'd died, but he'd died redeeming himself. He could join those he had killed, those he had let die... Perhaps he could beg Flay's forgiveness when he died?

Flay wouldn't forgive him. She was far too prideful. He chuckled bitterly at that.

And Mwu... he hadn't even been by his side when he'd died. It had been so sudden, after all... could he have protected Mwu? Would him being there have made a difference? Perhaps, if he had offered himself in Mwu's place. But if he had done that, Rau would still be alive. Rau would have destroyed everything anyway, and Mwu would have died eventually... Still, giving Mwu those extra days; would it have been worth it?

His friends would say no. He would say yes. Kira knew that much.

Nearby, he could see what remained of his mobile suit floating just as helplessly. The ZGMF-X10A Freedom... Lacus had given it to him. She had told him to use it to do the right thing... and he had. Would she mourn him? Would she be sad if he died? He prayed not. They had dreams they shared, dreams that needed fulfilling. He knew she would never forgive him if he mourned her loss and it affected their plans. No, she wouldn't mourn. Perhaps on the inside, but that would be it.

Lacus was a strong person, after all. She still had the strength to hold herself as she did, even after losing her father. Kira blinked slowly, washing away threatening tears. Lacus had drawn strength from him, he knew that. She had depended on him, if only a little. But he had depended on her as well. They were kindred spirits, after all. Perhaps not much more, but they were at least that much.

The ring she had given him floated above his chest, beneath his tight, constricting suit. It had been looped through a chain and placed around his neck since then. What had it meant to her? He had a strong feeling, but then, he had never gotten the chance to ask. Did she love him? For that matter, did he love her? The trials before them had been too pressing at the time, and he hadn't even considered it. Was she just praying that her rock survived? Or was she praying that her lover, the only one she could trust what remained of her heart with, would come back to her? That was a silly thought, he realized belatedly.

It didn't matter anyway. Whether she needed him or loved him, she would not mourn for him. Hopefully, few would.

"Kira!" Someone was calling out to him now. It was distant, but he was certain of it. He didn't dare confirm it, though. What did it matter if anyone found him now? He was broken. He was nothing more than shattered remnants now, to be left with all the other destruction that had been wrought around him. He had come to terms with it, though. He was ready to let those he had wronged have their way with him. It was what had been required of him from the moment he'd sinned, since the moment he'd killed.

"Kira!" That voice was more masculine... Athrun? Perhaps. Kira smiled slightly, determining that the first voice must have been Cagalli. He should have known better than to think they would forget about him. Even though they should have forgotten him, they never would. They were good friends, too good perhaps. But that was okay. They were people he could rely on, people he knew had been there for him to the bitter end. He hadn't anticipated having such a reliable best friend and such a wonderful sister would be such a double-edged sword. Especially when just a few months ago he had been in despair, fighting his best friend and fighting off a crush for whom he now knew to be his sister.

Even now, that revelation stirred forgotten feelings in him. And as much as he hated himself for it, shame wasn't one of those feelings. He had held a crush for his sister once upon a time, and the feeling had clearly been mutual... at the time. But the revelation of them being siblings had hit them both hard. A line was immediately placed between them, one neither dared cross. They were so close, yet neither dared to acknowledge it. They were siblings. They weren't lovers. Kira had come to terms with this as well. He told himself the love he had for Cagalli had been a subconscious knowledge of her being his sister. The desire to protect her above all else had come from a brotherly desire to do so, not out of an embarrassing fondness for her. He had convinced himself it was so.

The Strike Rouge was close. Kira could tell, simply by listening to the growing sound of it's thrusters. The calling voices of his friend and sister were growing louder, heard over the sound of the suit's thrusters. He limply lifted his arm and reached out to them, though he could not see them. Tears finally broke free and ran down his face. Why did they have to come? Why couldn't they have been selfish for once, to have forgotten him the way he had wanted them to? It was a desperate hope and he knew it would never be, but... what if they had forgotten him? He didn't have time to consider that before he finally blacked out. The last feeling he felt before losing consciousness was that of his sister's small hands grasping his hand tightly, and his hot tears running down his face. He could feel...

But why did he have to love that feeling?

* * *

"... Breathing conditions, normal. He's stable." Quiet, hushed whispers. Almost inaudible.

"Will he live? He hasn't woken up!" ... Cagalli? That rough tone was distinctive.

"Miss Cagalli, it has only been three days. He was on the verge of death when you brought him to us."

So Cagalli had tried to save him... Though he knew he couldn't, for he was far too weak at that moment, Kira tried to smile. His heart swelled with gratitude, even when it should have been despairing at a lost chance to finally die. But was that gratitude for his sister, or...

"I know! But I can't lose him! He's all I have left!"

Was it for his old friend? The one whom, had things been different, may now have been his lover?

"I know how you feel, Miss Cagalli. But as it stands, we are lucky he has not needed to go comatose. His will to live is impressive."

Had he been able to, Kira would have laughed at that. Will to live? Last he remembered, he'd been pleading for death to take him away. To swallow him in it's warm embrace, to allow the demons of his past to claw at him to their hearts' content.

"You don't know a thing about how I feel!" Cagalli cried. And despite her distress, Kira was delighted to hear the worry in her voice. It had been far too long since he'd seen the caring side of his dear sister. Far too long indeed. That side of her belonged to Athrun now. Not that he was jealous.

"Even so, I..."

"Look, I..." Cagalli sighed, "I'm sorry. But I'm worried, alright?"

"I know you are, Miss Cagalli." There was a long pause that followed, and though Kira could not open his eyes he could tell this was the annoyed sort of pause, where the doctor would roll his eyes and casually reposition his glasses on the bridge of his nose, discreetly glaring at the offending person all the while. It was too bad for him, then, that Cagalli had looks that could easily kill. Kira knew this well from experience.

"Keep me updated, 'doc. I can't lose him..." Another pause, "I just can't. I won't know what to do anymore, you know?"

"Everyone here on the Archangel knows how much you need him, Miss Cagalli. But for now, all we can do is hope."

"Yeah..." Cagalli breathed, dejected.

"I know the kid too, you know? I owe my life to him, as does everyone else on this ship. I want him alive as much as you do, so just let me do my job, okay?"

* * *

The next time Kira felt aware of his surroundings, it was in far happier times. There wasn't anyone fighting around him, there wasn't any loud bickering that Cagalli could be known for...

But there was someone. Kira could feel someone, sitting nearby. The silence between him and his unknown visitor was palpable, but he could tell his visitor was nervous. They were searching for the right thing to say.

"... Hey, Kira." It was Athrun. Kira wished he could smile, delighted as he was that his friend was there by his side. Instead he did the only thing he could do, listening as intently as possible. Even if Athrun wasn't necessarily aware of his conscious state. "It's been almost two weeks. The fighting has stopped. Cagalli is in hysterics, claiming you sacrificed yourself to give us this peace. That the only reason we aren't holding guns to eachother is because you took the bullet for everyone else."

There was a long pause, as though now that he'd started talking, Athrun was desperate not to let them fall into silence. "I don't believe her, though, you know? You're strong. Far stronger than I ever thought you would be. Back on Copernicus, when we were kids... I always had to look out for you. You were just too friendly for your own good." A laugh followed, hollow and nervous, "But now... Now I don't know. Sometimes I still think you're that boy, the one that I had to defend. The one that relied upon me.

"Deep down, I think I still wish you were the weak Kira. The one that needed me around. But you don't need me anymore. We are friends because you want us to be, but you know what? You can look out for yourself. And it bothers me a bit, knowing that my purpose in your life isn't there. I used to be the big strong Athrun that would look after you. I'd pick you up when one of the other kids knocked you over, and I'd throw a punch or two if anyone made you cry. That was... it was just what I did. And it made me feel good, to know that you needed me."

Kira had felt numb from the moment he drifted out of the distorted cockpit of the Freedom, but now... why couldn't he feel everything? Every emotion his heart could offer, every aching pain in his body? If he could, he would have known whether or not he was crying. He didn't want to cry, but deep down he knew he would have been.

"But you don't need me anymore," Athrun went on, oblivious to the emotional distress he was bringing out in his friend. "I'm not the big strong Athrun I was years ago. Now I'm best friend Athrun, that guy that you almost killed... that guy that you want around, but don't need around. It's hard getting used to that, really. I'm used to being needed, to having you run to me asking for help. But you're strong now. I sometimes wonder if you are stronger now than I am.

"But even if you are, Kira, I..."

* * *

The day Kira woke, he'd never felt worse. His eyes slowly slid open, taunted by the unending darkness beyond the window in the small room. He could see the stars out there, lingering, reminding him of the last thing he had truly seen before falling into this depressing state.

The doctor was standing across the room, leaning against the wall and looking very bored as he flipped through a small book of some sort. The cover showed a medication package, so Kira's first guess was that it was a medical book of some sort. That, or the latest inspirational 'Don't Do Drugs' documentation novel from Earth. The latter seemed unlikely, though.

When the doctor noticed he was awake, he hastened to shut the book and toss it aside, running to Kira's side to check him over. He asked many questions in rapid succession, such as how he felt and whether he could perform certain tasks. Kira responded truthfully, testing his own functionability as he went. His right arm was a little limp and his legs were too stiff to do more than lift slightly; he'd not be walking for a while. His fingers moved perfectly, bending and stretching as they should. All in all, Kira was surprised to find the extent of his damages rendered him immobile and with a single arm.

Then the doctor left the room, mumbling something about a guest waiting and hysterics. Kira could put two and two together then, bracing himself as Cagalli ran in and flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing loudly into his chest. Kira smiled as he wrapped his left arm around her, holding her tightly and resting his chin upon her head. She continued to mumble things like, "Jerk," and, "Idiot," but he knew she was expressing her happiness as best she could. It had always been that way with her. Cagalli had far too much pride and was far too strong to sink to the level of disgustingly sweet words of affection. Every bit of affection in her had to be read between the lines, else it would never be found.

When finally she pulled away to look into Kira's eyes, he was surprised to see the worry in them. She never openly showed her worry to such an extent. She had no trouble expressing worry. Heck, expressing worry was what Cagalli did best. But she never showed so much worry before. Was it because he was her brother?

"I'm here, Cagalli," Kira whispered, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I thought I had lost you again, you idiot," Cagalli mumbled half-heartedly. It was obvious she was too happy to try to be mad at him.

"I know, and I'm sorry." Kira placed another kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arm around her head, pressing her into his chest again. She responded immediately, sighing almost happily as her arms shifted to rest around his waist, holding tightly. "I wish you would be like this more often," he whispered into her hair, laughing afterwards.

"I don't," Cagalli whispered back, snuggling further into his chest. "I'm sick of thinking you're dead. First I thought Athrun had killed you, and now I thought you'd died for all of us. I don't want to worry after you anymore."

"What do you want, then?"

"I want my brother to keep holding me like this, and pretend to listen while I ramble about all the girly feelings I felt when I thought you were dead. You owe me that."

And he did owe her. But he didn't pretend to listen. Kira listened intently to her every word, mumbling words of encouragement into her hair when she inevitably began to cry again. She told him of how she refused to see even Athrun for almost a week after returning, and how it became daily routine for her to speak with Kisaka briefly before spending gross amounts of hours pestering the doctor about Kira's state of health. She told him how even when Athrun tried to comfort her, the best she'd managed to do was put a false smile on her face and convince him that she would be fine. And naturally, she mentioned that Athrun had bought it completely, and that she'd been annoyed for days that he had been unable to read her like he should have been able to.

But Kira could. The moment she had finished, he said softly, "You want Athrun to treat you like I treat you."

"I don't want a second brother," she protested, knocking his back with a fist lightly. Kira let out a fake cough, chuckling when she immediately pulled back, looking as though she were about to break into a fit of sobs again. But when she saw him smiling softly at her, her worry quickly turned into annoyance and she began hitting his chest with her fists repeatedly, saying, "Don't scare me like that!"

Kira brought up his hand and grabbed both of Cagalli's in it, stopping her assault. "I'm sorry, Cagalli," he whispered, gently laying her hands down into his lap. "And I didn't mean you want another brother."

"What did you mean, then?" she asked, rearranging herself so that she was laying beside him, head resting on his shoulder and fingers drawing miscellaneous patterns into his wobbly arm.

"Remember back when we left Desert Dawn, and you came with us to Alaska?" He felt Cagalli nod, so he continued, "Even back then, I could read you like an open book. We shared everything with eachother. We weren't much different then than we are now, except we weren't... brother and sister."

"What about it?" Cagalli asked softly.

"You want Athrun to know you like I do. You want him to be able to look at you and immediately know that you are trying not to break down in front of everybody. You want him to know when to talk to you, and when to just hold you and let you cry it out. You want him to make you feel safe, even though you are perfectly capable of protecting yourself."

"Stop it!" Cagalli cried suddenly, laughing. She leaned forward to look into Kira's eyes, smiling widely as she said, "I'm supposed to be the big sister, remember? Stop being so smart."

"But I'm right, aren't I?" Kira laughed, forming a fist with his left hand and lightly knocking it against Cagalli's head.

"You made me sound like some vain, selfish girl!" Cagalli retorted hotly, unable to hide her laughter.

Kira laughed with her for a good minute before leaning forward as best he could, running his hand through Cagalli's hair. "But deep down, you are a vain and selfish girl, right?"

"I thought I was selfless," Cagalli mumbled, determinedly looking away.

"You are as selfless as they come, Cagalli," Kira whispered, cupping her cheek and forcing her to face him. "But you are like any girl. Though you deny it, you want to be doted on. You want to feel like a Princess every morning – don't comment. You want Athrun's attention to be only on you, and it bothers you that he can't give you all of his attention because of..." he dropped his hand from her cheek and gestured in a large circle around them, "... all of this."

"You seem to have no trouble doing all of that. Lacus is lucky," Cagalli sighed. Kira made sure to note for later use that she didn't deny his point.

"Are you sure you should be calling her lucky when I'm your brother?" Kira laughed, taking great pleasure in watching her expression turn embarrassed immediately.

"You know what I mean!" she shot back, covering her face with her hands. "She has somebody who almost died trying to protect all of us, and he is still able to read me perfectly, you know? It makes me wonder, 'Why can't Athrun do that?'"

"I'd rather you not make it sound like I'm a possession. She doesn't 'have' me," Kira sighed, raising an eyebrow in a poor attempt to keep the amusement out of his features.

"Whatever," Cagalli muttered, swatting at his chest. "The point is, Athrun doesn't dote on me and he doesn't make me feel like the Princess I am. I don't have his sole attention, and he doesn't know when to talk or when to hold me."

"Sound more annoyed."

"... What?"

Kira flicked lightly at Cagalli's nose, saying, "You need to sound more annoyed. Sound angry. You being quiet and normal like this... it's starting to scare me."

"Don't tease me," Cagalli growled, turning that ever famous temper on Kira.

"That's better."

"Stop!"

"Angrier."

Cagalli punched him roughly in the shoulder, completely uncaring to whether or not it actually hurt him. "I'm going now."

"That was perfect."

* * *

As Kira lay in his comfortable infirmary bed that night, watching the stars outside, he couldn't help but sigh longingly. When had he ever felt as lighthearted as he had then? Teasing, laughing, joking... when had he last been able to do that? His time had been spent either brooding, killing, or planning, often in that order. He'd become a soldier through and through and he knew it, try as he might to deny it. Could he fit in with society now, with himself battle scarred as he was?

"Why are we here?" He found himself asking himself that question again. He knew he had no answer for it, but the question itself plagued him as much as the memories of his actions did. He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist down on his thigh, crying out in sheer frustration. He vaguely noticed the doctor running in to check on him, only to give him a reprimanding glare and retreat when he realized that Kira wasn't in any real pain. Any pain that could be treated, anyway. There was plenty of pain within, unable to be cured by even the greatest of science's advances.

"What's wrong, Kira?" The melodic voice that could only belong to Lacus drifted to his ears as she walked in, smiling faintly as she moved to take a seat at the chair beside his bed. "Cagalli called me the moment she left. How are you feeling?"

"I..." Kira looked away, ashamed to have been caught in the middle of one of his emotional episodes. "Why can't I be dead? It would be so much easier if I were."

"You want to run away?"

"I want to redeem myself. I have killed, and killed, and killed. Even when I fought to stop people from dying, not killing when it could be helped, I killed." Kira took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. His right arm was still motionless, his hand lying open palm in his lap. "It didn't occur to me at the time, since it was a best case scenario, but there were probably people that I'd tried to keep alive that eventually died. I can't keep anyone alive!"

"Is it Flay?" Lacus asked, unperturbed by Kira's torment.

"It's not even Flay, Lacus!" Kira cried, throwing his head back. "It's everyone. I killed Sir Waldtfeld's lover, I killed Nicol, I killed Flay... I've hurt my friends when I didn't even mean to."

"But you didn't mean to, right?" Lacus tilted her head to the side, watching the anguish in Kira's eyes with worry. "And you're regreting. That's a start."

"Even so," Kira said, looking up at Lacus. "They haunt me. They call out to me when I am awake, and they haunt me in my dreams. I can't free myself from that guilt."

Lacus said nothing as she stood, moving to sit beside him in bed and wrapping her arms around him slowly, tentatively. Neither had truly made any attempt to acknowledge where they stood with one another; there simply hadn't been an opportunity. But as she placed her arms around him Kira sighed softly, knowing immediately that he truly could feel at ease with her holding him. His hand reached across his chest to play with a lock of pink hair, spinning it around his finger and tugging at it softly, gently, lovingly. Lacus' head fell to his shoulder as his hand advanced, running through her hair and massaging her scalp as it went.

"Is this helping?" Lacus asked finally, her voice slightly higher pitched. Involuntarily she let out a squeak as Kira's hand ran down the side of her neck, tickling the soft skin there.

"Yeah," Kira mumbled, distracted as he focused on his hand's movement through Lacus' hair and down the sides of her neck, indiscriminately massaging or tickling as it went. He truly did feel burdenless then, lost in the feel of this rare moment. They didn't need words at that point; sometime in the last minute, they had wordlessly told the other where they stood. They were together, kindred spirits with similar ideals and lovers who relied upon one another to drown out the suffering of their past.

"This war is almost over," Lacus stated, her own hand beginning to trace a figure eight pattern on the palm of Kira's right hand. "Soon we can lay down our weapons and look toward the future."

"It's funny," Kira sighed, pulling Lacus close against the side of his body. "Here we are, two kids, trying to tell the world of adults what to do. When did we suddenly become the ones who had to do it?"

"They are too prideful," Lacus said quietly. "They don't remember what it's like to be friendly, to embrace those around you. Childlike innocence?"

"Childlike innocence," Kira agreed, his hand returning to playing with Lacus' hair. "What will happen to us?"

"What do you mean?"

"When all this is over, where will we stand?" Kira asked, drawing Lacus away from him with his hand so that he could look her in the eye. "I was pulled into this because I wanted to protect my friends. Now I fight because I want to stop the war. But despite all that, I don't want to fight. I don't want fighting to become my life."

"And," Lacus said, drawing the word out for an extra few seconds, "what is it you do want to do?"

Kira didn't answer. Instead he pulled Lacus against him again, pulling her slightly on top of him and used his left arm to pull his right around her slim waist. With the other he returned to playing with her hair, listening intently as her breathing began to even out. She was asleep a few minutes later, chest rising and falling and pressing into Kira's chest with every breath. Even as he fell asleep he continued to play with her hair, pondering the question she had asked.

That was another question Kira would have to find the answer to.

* * *

It was a week later, a full month after the fierce battle at Yachin Due, when Kira finally had a true visit again. Everyone had been busy going about their duties: Lacus had been busy with negotiations, finally reaching a stable point in the negotiations where, according to Athrun during a brief visit two days ago, both sides were certain to sign an agreeable peace treaty any day now. There hadn't been one drawn up yet, but Kira was sure that if anyone could do it, Lacus could. Cagalli had meanwhile been busy finding Orb loyalist contacts throughout the Earth Alliance to aid her in rebuilding Orb which had, again according to Athrun, recently been restored independent status from the Earth Alliance. Cagalli would have been ecstatic then, Kira was sure.

But when he saw her that morning, she was anything but ecstatic. She wasn't even happy. Her body was quivering and she was shaking with tears as she ran in, and Kira hardly had time to process anything before she flung herself at him, grabbing him around the neck and holding on for everything she was worth. Kira knew better than to let this moment fester in silence and he immediately drew her away from him, asking softly, "What's wrong?"

"You really do know when I want to talk," Cagalli choked out quietly.

"Answer the question," Kira replied sternly, ignoring her quip.

"The Eternal... it is..."

"Lacus?!" Kira cried, grabbing Cagalli's shoulders roughly. "Is everything okay? Tell me, Cagalli! Please!"

"It's under attack! By ZAFT forces!" Cagalli sobbed. "Some of our Astrays went to help, but we can't hold them off... I..."

"Is the Strike Rouge on the Archangel?" Kira asked suddenly.

"Y-yes, but..."

"Head to the bridge and tell them to ready it for launch." Kira stood, wincing as his legs struggled under his weight. He took a few experimental steps before collapsing against the wall. "I'm going."

"Like that?" Cagalli gasped, rushing over to support him. "You can't!"

"I have to!" Kira shot back. "I can't lose Lacus, Cagalli. I..." He paused, "No, we can't lose her. The world needs Lacus."

"You mean you need Lacus."

"I'm not that selfish."

"It's okay to be selfish sometimes, Kira."

Both fell into silence. With Cagalli's support Kira managed to kick off from the ground and let the lack of gravity guide him. He called over his shoulder, "Go let them know, okay?"

The trip to the hangar was eerily quiet for Kira's tastes. He passed by nobody, and even in the hangar mechanics seemed to be pointedly ignoring him, almost afraid at seeing the despair that was sure to be written on his face. He pushed himself up toward the open cockpit of the Strike Rouge, flinging himself in and seating himself, stubbornly ignoring the pain that shot through his body when it crashed into the seat.. He flipped several switches and watched the suit come to life, running through performance checks swiftly. His eyes followed everything it said easily, reading everything it had to say while his fingers strummed in alterations as necessary. No sooner had he finished than he saw a request for communication from the bridge. He pressed a button near the flashing alert on the screen before him, listening for any sort of sound from the bridge.

"... Kira, you're clear for launch," Miriallia's voice was heard softly. She seemed reluctant, and for good reason, given the circumstance. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I have to, Mir. Thank you." He eased the controls forward, stepping the Strike onto the small platform that then led the suit to the linear catapult's launching bay. Mechanics all around were hurrying to make sure everything was prepared for his launch, and he registered vaguely that Murdock was giving him a thumbs up. "Kira Yamato, Strike Rouge!" he called out, as was his unnecessary wont. "Launching!"

The catapult flung him forward at that moment, the suit coming to life as it was launched from the Archangel. He lurched forward as he struggled to get a proper hand on the controls, fighting to keep control over the suit. That didn't bode well for him.

"Kira," Miriallia called out to him again. "There are ten of them right now. Seven are Ginns, but there are three Cgues as well. Be careful."

He had fought far worse. And he'd done so with nothing but him and either the Moebius Zero or the Skygrasper to lend him support. He could do this. He could...

His vision blurred and he lurched forward again, sending the Strike Rouge into a downward lurch as well. He blinked several times to regain his focus, steering himself toward the tiny blips on his radar, surrounding the Eternal. They weren't far off and the Eternal had help, but would it be enough? Kira had realized, albeit belatedly, that Orb's Astray mobile suits weren't quite on par with the Cgue suits ZAFT was pumping out. And ZAFT had a slight advantage in their status as Coordinators, though their genetic enhancements had proven to be a relatively small point in mobile suit warfare.

"How are the Kusanagi's Astrays holding out?" Kira asked, watching, with careful calculation, the green beams flying back and forth in the distance, accompanied by small explosions from time to time. None large enough to have been a mobile suit exploding.

"Not well, Kira. They are outnumbered two to one as it is, and Kisaka is afraid to put what little is left of their troops in danger as well. You will have to save them," Miriallia explained grimly.

Kira nodded, now all the more determined to save the Eternal. He would beat this weakness of his. He would save Lacus. He would not fail again. "I can't lose anyone else," he muttered to himself.

When the Eternal came into sight, he couldn't prevent a gasp from escaping his mouth. The situation was worse than he had expected. Ginns had it surrounded on all sides while the three Cgues fought off three of the Astrays. The two other Astrays were defending the Eternal as best they could, but it was a hopeless endeavor. Kira knew which group it was he needed to help. Bringing his beam sword to hand, he turned toward one of the Ginns and rushed it, cutting off one of it's arms before it could act. As it spun around him he followed, swerving when it hopelessly tried throwing it's shield at him. He closed the distance once more and took out it's other arm and it's head in one swing, leaving the suit to drift away hopelessly, to be either abandoned or recovered by it's allies.

He didn't have to wait long to find his next foe. He turned and brought up his shield just in time to stop a beam shot from a beam rifle before it hit him. He brought his own rifle to hand and carefully fired, hitting the joint that held it's right arm in place, leaving it weaponless and it's head damaged by the resulting explosion. Words of gratitude poured in from the pilots of the Astrays as soon as he took out the second one, showing to Kira the grim reality of their situation. And dismantling two Ginns hardly helped the Eternal's position.

"This is Kira Yamato! Eternal, can you hear me?" Kira called out desperately as he reached out to one of the Astray, pulling it aside just in time to save it from a beam fired from a distant rifle. He quickly spun to face it and brought his rifle up again, firing blindly. The Ginn flew over the shot and maneuvered itself to Kira's left side, firing again. This time it hit the Astray and destroyed it, the resulting explosion shaking Kira's suit. His vision faded out completely for a second, but he still managed to find the Ginn and take it out with a few swift swings of his saber, removing it's head and arms in the blink of an eye. "This is Kira Yamato! Can you here me?!"

"... Kira!" Lacus called out to him, her voice telling him of the worry her heart surely felt. The response was faint at best, static intruding upon her words and cutting her off every few seconds. The Eternal must have been hit harder than he anticipated. "What... doing?!"

Kira didn't need to hear what the static had cut off to know what she had to say, naturally. He had asked himself that question as well, briefly, before dismissing the thought. He was protecting Lacus, of course. But not just her. Sir Waldtfeld, Martin... His allies, some former enemies, were aboard the Eternal. The near entirety of the Clyne Faction was aboard the Eternal. If nothing else, they couldn't afford to lose the Clyne Faction. On a more personal level, Kira knew that he didn't care all that much about the Clyne Faction itself. What he cared about were his friends, the people stuck on board the Eternal, fighting for their lives as best they could. And he may have lost the Freedom, but Kira was not about to let that stop him.

"I'm saving everyone!" he cried. "I won't lose anyone else! I will protect them!"

And that was all that he truly need to hear. That determination fueled him, gave him the strength to push on. His body seemed to respond to that desire as well. His senses were suddenly heightened; he felt as though he could feel the very movements those around him were making. As a Ginn nearby sprung out from beneath the Eternal and fired at him Kira was quick to react, dodging the shot and firing back, taking out the arm that had been holding the rifle. He could no longer feel the ache of his wounds or the ache in his heart at the thought of failure. He had become hollow, devoid of anything beyond the feral desire to see his enemy defeated and his friends saved. His body sacrificed all else, granting him the state of mind required to focus on that alone. That was the SEED power he had awakened within himself many months ago.

"... Stop it!" Lacus' panicked voice wasn't reassuring, but in Kira's state of mind he was able to dismiss it easily. What may have actually affected him normally received no more than a casual notice at that moment, engrossed as he was in his present duty. Two more Ginns came at him from both sides, beam rifles trained forward and firing. He assessed the situation quickly, swerving and dodging their assaults as they continued to grow closer. At the last possible second he flipped upward, his beam saber cutting off the arm of one while he fired at the other, dropping his shield in the process of favoring such an offensive maneuver, taking out it's arm as well. Both remained still for a moment in shock before pulling off, poorly armed as they were. If they had anything left to use against him, they no longer had the will to try.

Kira scanned the battlefield before him critically. All of the Astrays that had been engaging the Cgue had been destroyed, overpowered and methodically taken out. The prospect of fighting them off as well as the single remaining Ginn didn't bother Kira, particularly, given the fact that he still had some help. Granted it was a single Astray, but that would be enough to hold off a single Ginn.

"Take care of that last Ginn," Kira ordered softly, praying belatedly that his sole ally still had means of hearing him. He didn't dwell on it, moving quickly to intercept the three Cgue that were quickly advancing on the Eternal, which in itself looked hardly capable of doing much more than sitting around and getting destroyed. It was smoking in several places, and it seemed to be a miracle that it hadn't yet been destroyed. Only the bridge looked to be untouched, but that alone made Kira dare to hope. There was a chance he could do this. There was a chance he could save Lacus. He...

"Astray to Strike pilot! I can't find the Ginn!" Kira jerked to rigid attention when the Astray pilot's voice pervaded his thoughts, startling him. His eyes moved to his radar immediately, scanning it for any heat signals. If there were any aside from himself and the Astray, they were being concealed. The three Cgue were close, but none of them could have been the signal for the remaining Ginn. Unless the Ginn had retreated without his noticing, which wasn't likely, and one of the Cgues had inexplicably retreated, also unlikely. That meant...

"The Eternal!" Kira cried, whirling about. But he was far too late. The Ginn revealed itself then, rising up to a steady level in front of the Eternal's bridge and fired. The green beam travelled at a pace far too slow for Kira's heightened senses, inevitably hitting it's mark and sending a massive burst of fire through the now wide open bridge. That blow seemed to do it for the rest of the Eternal, as a moment later it detonated, rocking everything around it with the force of it's explosion.

Kira couldn't really tell if his heart was still beating, then. Who was to say? What remained of it had nothing left to cling to, grasping desperately at whatever nothingness lay before it. His only relief came in the fact that he did not cry. He did not feel pain. He did not know if he was numbed to it, or if he simply couldn't feel it. Either way, all that he felt when the Eternal exploded was the hollow emptiness that had filled him the moment he had entered his SEED state.

"Kira!" Mirialia called out to him, her voice hoarse. She too had seen what had just happened, clearly, and her distress was apparent. Unlike Kira it was clear she was crying, as a sob interrupted her attempt to speak. "Are you okay? Answer me!"

"Kira Yamato to Captain Ramius," Kira replied dully. He realized that his body was moving of it's own accord, turning toward the Ginn and firing, destroying it in a burst of flames that left nothing but charred remains in it's wake. He didn't even bother to try and spare the pilot.

"Kira?" Murrue's equally hoarse voice asked tensely. "What is it?"

Kira didn't respond immediately. He charged at the nearby Cgues, dodging everything that came his way with an ease that startled even him. Not even SEED provided such a sense of awareness. They backed away slightly as he neared, but it wasn't enough. His saber was already held high, and in a blindingly swift motion he swiped at one, destroying it. Before anything could move he had turned and slashed again, destroying the second. As the third dared to flee he pulled out his rifle, firing at it's backside and destroying it as well. There was a dull pain within him as he heartlessly destroyed them rather than decapitating them as he had taken to doing, but he ignored it.

"... I think I know why we are here." And then he blacked out.

* * *

And that is the inconclusive one-shot of the day. The ending leaves something to be desired as a one-shot, but as a prologue for a future plot-fic it works just fine. In case you needed additional incentive to make your decision.


	2. Back to the Drawing Board

By popular demand (and a decision I had pretty much made from the start), here is chapter two. This isn't all that long by my standards, but it is supposed to be that way. For one, this fic is to be solely from Kira's perspective and as such the content is limited to what he sees. Further, the actual content in each chapter is not to be extensive in terms of development regardless, and much of it centers around Kira's experiences and his reactions to things rather than the events themselves. Characters aside from Kira will get their own due focus, not to worry, but their development will be related to Kira in most, if not all, instances. Simply put, you can call the format in which this is written the Six Degrees of Kira Yamato, if you feel so inclined. It has a nice ring to it, I think.

* * *

"What do you mean, 'We have to go?!'"

Kira winced somewhat dramatically as he was pushed against the wall by an absolutely furious, and in that aspect nearly as frightening as Cagalli, Miriallia. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have dismissed Lacus' death with a wave of the hand and an arguably harsh lack of care for the issue as a whole, but it was a little late for that thought. His back screamed in protest as the contact with the metallic wall sent shockwaves of pain up his back, augmented by the indents and protrusions in the wall that made the experience especially painful. It was painful enough that he, if only for a brief moment, forgot they had twenty-some-odd spectators, all looking either amused, shocked or equally furious. The latter was a sentiment held by more than Kira felt comfortable with.

Which, again, he had technically brought upon himself. And really, he hadn't even meant to. But when your sister comes to see you in the morning and make sure you're still breathing and that the previous day's festivities, and fighting, hadn't brought upon more pain than necessary and your response is to wave her off and then dismiss her efforts to help, people tend to get angry about it. How had he been supposed to know? It was no secret that the two siblings were hardly siblings at all; their affection for one another was more a friendly affection that had been forcefully turned into one of siblings rather than an affection that had been born of familial love to begin with. Which made their brother-sister relationship a crash course, at best.

And of course, being in the slight daze he was, this wasn't enough for Kira. Oh no, he thought darkly as he recalled it. Miriallia had brought him breakfast not an hour after the last rounds of angry visitors ended, asking him if he would be okay. His next mistake had been made here, he decided, as he recalled having had to ask why he wouldn't have been okay. But in his defense, the grief had been written all over him. Lacus' death had meant something to him, contrary to what seemed to now be popular belief. Which made Kira the number one enemy of a massive misunderstanding plus several coincidentally poorly worded incidents... Okay, that was his fault. But again, coincidences should have been just that – coincidences. This hadn't seemed to occur to any of his new enemies.

But did his back now have to suffer for it?

"I mean just that," Kira stressed, trying to keep his voice low and failing, strained as it was from resisting the urge to cry out in pain as his back burned anew. "Those ZAFT mobile suits didn't have a ship nearby."

Skepticism was written all over Miriallia's face while she tightened her grip on the collar of his presently _very_ tight civilian's clothing, clinging to him in every place they possibly could to make themselves as uncomfortable as possible. "What does that have to do with anything?" she cried, her eyes narrowing menacingly. Kira was surprised to find that he, despite his better wishes, was perfectly capable of keeping his cool under such a gaze. Had it been Cagalli, and God knows it could have just as easily been her holding his ever fragile life in her hands like this in a heartbeat, he feared he would have been a sweating, nervous mess. Cagalli's anger had that effect on people. Or perhaps just him.

"Even rebel groups usually have a ship lying around somewhere. Which means," Kira tore an arm free from Miriallia's grasp and pushed her back slightly, kicking off from the wall and turning to face her mid-flight, "that ZAFT wants us to think they were rebels. Someone in ZAFT didn't want the war to die down."

"Die down?" Sai asked suddenly, looking up from his terminal clear across the other side of the bridge. Kira was tempted to take the time to wonder why he'd worded it that way himself but he decided against it, realizing dismally that it was likely the most apt way to describe it, given the fact that the war had never truly ended. "I thought the war was going to end..." Sai went on thoughtfully, though the mournful tone of his voice was not missed.

"So did we all," Miriallia responded bitterly, before whirling about to glare at Kira again. "Why isn't it over? Why can't we go back to our normal lives?!"

"For one," Kira said, an eerie calm about him that silenced Miriallia immediately, "we've been stuck like this from the moment we decided to stay with the Archangel. We are soldiers now." He looked away then, sighing heavily. "But I don't have an answer for you. Taking out the heads should have put an end to it. We knew that there would still be hatred, but that would have healed in time... That hatred is too strong, I suppose."

"And Lacus had to die because people can't stop hating," Miriallia sighed, turning on Kira all over again. "Without her, we don't have a chance of stopping the war anyway!"

"So we should roll over and die?" Kira fired back. A small part of his mind noted he was sounding increasingly like his sister in his present state of distress. Which was an interesting notion worth future pondering, should time allow. Perhaps the frightening Attha temper was a Hibiki gene? Or perhaps it was simply prolonged exposure to all things Cagalli that had brought out a very potent anger in him. God knows her stubborn attitude could do that to a person.

"R-roll over and die? No!" Miriallia threw her arms into the air, as though realizing the futility of her argument. Kira decided against acknowledging the fact that her argument had actual merit. "But there isn't anything we can do now! Can't we just stop?!"

That comment was enough to send Kira reeling for a moment. Stop fighting? That wasn't something Miriallia should have been saying... No, Miriallia was as dedicated to their ideals as he was! Surely she, if not everyone, should have been by his side in saying they needed to keep fighting the war. But the question of how was worth noting...

As appealing as the notion of not fighting anymore was, Kira shook his head. There was much he needed to do before he could happily leave the fighting behind, after all. "I don't know how we can stop the war," he admitted, however reluctantly, though he took great care in keeping his voice even all the while. "But we can't stop trying. Or," his carefully guarded tone rose slightly, taking on a more accusatory and forceful sound, "would you let Lacus' death be in vain? She would never forgive us if we stopped fighting because of her."

"He's right." Kira's ever declining hope for a small backing of allies was renewed as Athrun spoke up, despite sounding completely indifferent in doing so. He was seated across the other side of the bridge, propped against the side of one of the unoccupied chairs casually. A casual gesture he never would have gotten away with had the ship actually been in any form of military order at the moment, Kira added. "We should do what we can, even if it is very little."

* * *

Those words stuck with Kira late into the day, as he completed his rounds throughout the ship. The remains of the Freedom, he had seen, were laying sideways where it had previously stood imposingly in the Archangel's hangar, deprived of just about every body part. Murdock had said that repairing it would be impossible with the supplies they had, much to the dismay of Kira. Though he doubted it would have been of much use anyway; as it stood, the repairs the Freedom would require would have taken simply too long. By the time it would have been ready, it would be far too late.

Despite all of this, he remained optimistic. As he sat on the neatly made bed in his own quarters, thinking, he reminded himself of those words repeatedly. They could not do much yet, it was true. But they could start somewhere. Such as, who would want to start the war again? That would be far too vague, given the fact that there were many extremists in both the EA and ZAFT who certainly wouldn't mind the war's continuation. Rather, there were many that would benefit from that. Least of all the greed-driven weapons manufacturers who found themselves considerably more wealthy for their efforts when the world was in need of the weapons, primarily mobile suits, they designed. After all, a peaceful world hardly made mobile suits a necessity. Kira dared say they were a burden on that idealistic, peaceful world that had formed from Kira's wants and dreams and pleasantly taken up residence in the small part of his brain labeled 'Storage for Insanity-Induced Junk'.

Kira never ceased to depress himself with his inability to dispute that self-created label.

But really, could he blame himself? All sunshines and rainbows, him walking merrily through a park that seemed to be the embodiment of all that was peaceful and serene, with Lacus hanging on his arm and him whispering sweet nothings into her ear... Okay, that last part was technically impossible, recent events considered. And the whole bit of sweet nothings probably was too; he just couldn't see himself being capable of such endearment now that his heart had been greedily consumed, however temporarily, by such amounts of hatred as what he had felt for the likes of Rau Le Creuset, Murata Azrael, and even at one point Athrun. But the fact remained still; didn't all guys dream of such an ideal world? ... Probably not. But Kira had never dared to believe he was like other guys, and he knew from his days on Copernicus that his dreams of sunshines and rainbows and merrily taken walks with a beautiful woman hanging both on his arm and on his every word were his and his alone.

Maybe they were girls' dreams as well, but that was hardly a comforting thought. Or so said his masculinity, wherever it was.

All of it came together to give him a rather disturbing sickness in his stomach. Damn the wayward remnants of his innocence.

"... Kira?" Cagalli asked quietly through his closed, locked, door. Though it was heavily muffled by the thick door that separated them, her voice could never be mistaken. Nor could the rare timidity of her tone. He immediately swung himself off his bed and toward the terminal beside the door, pressing at a few buttons with startling swiftness and unlocking the door, turning just as it slid open for his sister.

She didn't say anything as she floated toward him slowly, without any real desire to hasten the movement. When she finally came within arm's reach she threw her arms around him, muffling a quiet, "I'm sorry," into his chest. Which confused him more than it surprised him, really. His surprise that she was apologizing to begin with came second to the fact that she was doing so at all.

"What are you sorry for?" he then asked dumbly, wishing fervently that he were capable of getting out more than that. But that little must-be-timid act his stomach still liked to occasionally pull in the presence of women, Cagalli unfortunately being no exception, reared it's ugly head and struck, turning him into the near sputtering mess he had once always been toward women. But sleeping around with your close friend's fianceé and eventually learning she was manipulating you into being an emotionless killing machine had the tendency to change someone, if not as much as he would have liked.

"Lacus, of course," Cagalli replied relatively simply, albeit emotionally, as though that alone told him exactly what was going through her mind. "I was being insensitive," she went on mindlessly, wetting Kira's clothed chest with her tears. "You're grieving too, right?"

He wasn't, really; not on the outside anyway. He was thankful then that Cagalli clearly understood at least that much. She seemed to just know that he wouldn't be showing any grief in the open, even if she didn't quite get why. "... Yeah," he said quietly, reluctantly, but Cagalli didn't appear bothered by his reluctance. "What about Athrun, though? He is grieving too."

"You're my brother, though."

"And he's your..." Kira paused then, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "... Whatever you two are."

Cagalli still remained indifferent to the subject of the grief her of friend, lover... whatever Athrun was in her life. "You need me more," she replied stubbornly, pulling back enough to gaze up at Kira with a look of such concern, such endearment, that Kira was actually spellbound for the briefest of seconds.

"But ---"

Cagalli, apparently, was having nothing to do with this suggestion called 'Listening to Kira's Opinion'. She buried herself into his chest once again, content to remain like that. As soon as Kira's mouth opened even the slightest bit, Cagalli suddenly said, "Shut up. Hug."

Whoever said Twin Telepathy doesn't exist was going to be getting a few choice words from Kira.

* * *

The days that followed were surprisingly uneventful; much like the days spent in peaceful repetivity between individual battles back before the war saw it's initial conclusion at Yachin Due. There were constant requests for Kira to come to the bridge in place of Murrue, who seemed to have turned her quarters into a permanent lodging of late and had been delegating her duties to Kira, and listen to various reports of where conflict had been breaking out between the Earth Alliance and ZAFT's forces. And as much as it stung him every time he admitted it, all he could do was listen. They didn't have the strength to move to stop the fighting, even with what remained of Orb's forces backing them. They would need to bolster their forces somehow before taking on the daunting task of interventional mediators once again.

"The Earth Alliance have been gathering their forces at the Arzachel Lunar Base," Miriallia said, her voice unusually even and uncaring. She was giving him the cold shoulder, talking simply out of necessity. The friendly fondness that had existed between them had faded in but an instant, and the pain of that had been as great as the pain of everything else that continued to build, pile up, and inevitably overwhelm him with an ache so strong it was hardly bearable.

"They have a base at the Arzachel crater?" Kira asked curiously, more for the benefit of their wilting friendship than out of any real curiosity. The depths of the situation hardly mattered to the one who's simple job was to go out and destroy, after all.

But Miriallia didn't seem very willing to take the cue, shooting him a hardened glare over her shoulder before tonelessly continuing, "The Fourth Fleet was decimated in the recent climactic battle near the remains of Artemis, where the Eurasian Federation's mobile suits overwhelmed and forced ZAFT away from the Earth on that front. Their losses in this battle led the alliance to abandon the area as a whole, and they gathered the First, Fifth and Ninth fleets at the Arzachel Lunar Base to prepare for an all out assault on the Plants, sans nuclear weapons. So says Terminal."

"What about information on mobile suits?" Kira asked, repeating to himself mentally not to forget the necessity to break through the unnecessarily thick barrier Miriallia was putting between them. The last thing he needed, with everything else piling up as they were, was for Miriallia to suddenly add herself to his growing list of guilt-inducing subjects. Like killing, and having wanted to kill Athrun... and being unsuccessful in the conversion process of turning his romantic feelings for Cagalli into familial feelings. That last one left a particularly sour feeling in his gut, and he was dismayed by his inability to tell if it was the feelings themselves or the concept of losing them that bothered him.

"There have been several mobile armors in their forces, but it's mostly Daggers. Just about everything is, now," Miriallia's voice changed ever so slightly, so slightly in fact that Kira was sure only he, and possible Sai, had noticed it. Her voice had taken a slightly bitter edge to it, as though telling off his very attempt to make amends for... whatever she couldn't seem to look beyond. Surely he hadn't done anything that terrible, had he?

"The Daggers are stronger than anything ZAFT has," Sai went on right where Miriallia left off, with a startling fluency that scared Kira more than he would have liked to admit. Where was he in this synchronized friendship he thought he had been a part of, again?

Ah yes. He was the cruelly gifted mobile suit pilot that unintentionally drew everyone else into the war behind him, dragging along the ground from the end of his all too high-and-mighty cape. He was the guy that went out and actually did everything, making sure his friends were safe. Not that he was bitter or anything. But when one was to try to keep a steady friendship while trying to keep everything from crumbling around you, well... Kira suspected the latter was typically the more likely outcome.

"Which means ZAFT will be losing their advantage soon," Kira concluded, nodding in understanding as he processed the new information as it came. "And ZAFT is sorely outnumbered as it is; they won't be able to survive the following battles, will they?"

"We will be finding out soon," Miriallia answered blandly. "ZAFT forces are attacking the undermanned Victoria Base again. If it falls, their ground forces can move into space and hit the Earth Alliance fleets from behind; both sides would be practically destroyed."

"And then it's Rau who wins," Kira groused, more bitterly than he had meant it to sound. Rightfully so all the same, he added defensively.

That comment, though, was met with surprising silence. Nobody was quite sure how to respond to it, or so Kira assumed by way of observing the troubled expressions everyone wore. It was no surprise that any and everything pertaining to Rau was a touchy subject to Kira, least of all being Rau heartlessly killing Flay, and there was no real enthusiasm toward the idea of following up on the comment. That was just fine though, for Kira feared any forthcoming comment would indeed upset him in one way or another. It always did.

Kira swung around the back of the captain's chair and sunk into the soft seat, relishing with the utmost of delight at how comfortable it was – and was it odd that he felt more powerful simply sitting in it? "How many troops do we have left?" he asked to nobody in particular, knowing that somebody had the answer he sought. It wasn't technically his job to know who, really.

"On the Archangel we have the Strike Rouge, Duel and Buster, and only one of them can be accounted for as a surefire ally," Sai replied much to Kira's satisfaction, for he had been dreading more monotonous talk from Miriallia. "Between the Kusanagi and Re-HOME, we have a squadron or so Astrays."

Kira nodded halfheartedly, registering the information without really thinking about it. A squadron of Astrays hardly made a difference on the battlefield anyway; at least, they hardly did on their own. At best they may have been able to fend off a small ZAFT army, but beyond that... They would need more if they wanted to make a difference. Particularly so in the absence of the Freedom and the Justice.

"Does Terminal have anything to offer?" he then asked, almost pleadingly by his own ears. Was he really that desparate?

"Terminal is hardly holding itself up with the loss of the Clyne Faction," Miriallia replied in that God awful monotone voice she'd been giving him all day. "Beyond their information and spy networks, they have next to nothing."

"And the Junk Guild are mercenaries at best," Sai added with a clipped tone, eyes looking particularly devoid of warmth as they regarded Kira. "We can't expect any help from them beyond what has already been given."

In considerably fewer and easier to process words, Kira thought, it all meant that their forces could be expanded no further than the rogue forces at their disposal and what remained of Orb's forces. Why oh why had Yachin Due been such a brutal battle? Life would have been so much easier had that savage battle not cost them so terribly.

"We should retreat to Orb airspace for now," Kira said suddenly, resting his head back against the ever so comfortable captain's seat. "We need to gather some firepower, and doing so while reliving the early days of this war is hardly a good idea."

"The area around Heliopolis has been under constant patrol by ZAFT forces since it's collapse," Arnold, as though he _hadn't_ in fact been listening in strict silence to the entire exchange, said with a mild huff of what Kira could only guess to be annoyance. Whether the annoyance was intended as emphasis upon what he had said or if it was in response to the obvious hostilities between Kira and Miriallia was anybody's guess. "The only safe area would be the Pillar of Heaven, but that..."

"The danger doesn't matter," Kira cut him off as soon as he'd become aware of Arnold's intent. "We have to get there. If we don't, we won't live much longer anyway. With luck, Orb may still have some troops posted around it."

"Orb's space forces were almost entirely retreated to Onogoro when Heliopolis was destroyed," Arnold protested in knowing vain.

"We will head there regardless," Kira said with definitive authority. "If nothing else, we can get proper shelter."

* * *

Late that night, long after everyone had retired and Sai and Miriallia had been replaced by their night shifts, Kira made his way to Murrue's room. Upon entering, he was unsurprised to see her awake, curled up into a small ball at the end of her bed, watching some sort of news report on the terminal by her door. Her eyes were lazy and it almost seemed as though she weren't paying the least bit of attention to everything around her, but she managed to muster a brief glance in Kira's direction when the door hissed as it closed behind him. "What are you doing?" she mumbled halfheartedly, shaming Kira with the fact that seeing his ever confident and wise Captain in such a despairing state was mildly amusing, even if it was simply on account of the comical expressions her face made in an attempt to portray that despair.

"Reporting to my Captain, what else?" Kira laughed, saluting mockingly. When Murrue furrowed her brows and looked away from him, Kira frowned. "We need you on the bridge, Captain Ramius. I can't be a Captain! Half the bridge hates me – which is my fault, I will admit – and the half that doesn't thinks I'm insane for not giving up!"

"So do I," Murrue said pointedly.

"Why?!" Kira cried, throwing his arms into the air. He was dimly aware that the sudden motion forced his body to the side slightly, brushing up against the wall in order to stop himself from drifting. "Did we not agree that we would stop this war from ending in genocide?! And we were so close! If we can stop them from hating eachother, we ---"

"--- How would we go about that, Kira?" Murrue snapped, glaring at him with one eye, the other returning it's attention to her terminal. "If we try to force that sort of thing on everyone, are we any better than Rau?!"

"Rau wanted to kill everyone!"

"And you are suggesting we deny everyone their will!" Murrue shot back, turning in place to glare heatedly at Kira. "Tell me, how is that better?"

"I don't mean to suggest... that," Kira said softly, hanging his head. "But how can we do nothing?! I don't know what we can do, but we will get nowhere by giving up!"

Murrue sighed deeply, shaking her head before settling back on the terminal again. "You are Captain, Kira, if only in name. I... I can't help a cause I don't believe in."

* * *

And chapter two closes off on a rather despairing note, which is fitting in the general theme Seed (and by extension this story) follows. Several people were OOC to some degree, but that was intentional, for the simple reason that the events of this story renders OOC a moot point really. I mean, staying within the scope of the character the series gives you is all well and fine, but what good is that if it prevents you from giving them any unique twists and turns in their character development? Murrue is a fine example of this; Miriallia to a very small degree could I suppose, but her reactions were largely justified (in my eyes) by her behaviour toward Dearka in the series. If you feel like disagreeing, go for it.


	3. Archangel in Flight

This took longer than I expected it to, but the final scene gave me a bit more trouble than I anticipated it would. That and I had to write this in such a way that justifiably portrayed everyone's anger toward Kira without disrupting the actual flow of the chapter, as I evidently failed to sufficiently do so last chapter. If this chapter fails also, well, at least next chapter puts it on the front page of a newspaper and shoves it in your face.

* * *

If there was one upside to the eternal embodiment of loneliness that was space, Kira thought, it was that there was no risk of being rudely awoken by the sun. In space, there was no sun waiting – glaring – just outside your window biding it's time for the perfect opportunity to strike, usually right when you move to roll over in a desperate attempt to get a little bit more sleep. The sun had been the bane of many an attempted sleep-in for Kira in his time, and he revelled in the times when he could sleep to his heart's content, knowing that the only thing waiting for him was the endless expanse of space Not that he would partake in such a thing as sleeping in all too often, especially in times as dire as these.

But that didn't mean he had to like being awoken to the sound of the ship sending out warnings over it's comm system.

"Kira!" On top of the growing sound of Sai sending a warning throughout the ship that they were about to enter battle, that much Kira had picked up, there was the growing awareness of someone shaking his body furiously. Athrun came into view as Kira blinked his eyes open slowly, shaking away the lingering remnants of exhaustion that were all but begging him to roll over and go back to sleep.

"Athrun?" he questioned, for insurance's sake, on the off chance his eyes were playing tricks on him. When he was sure of so little, how could he really be sure of his own eyesight? And he had been known to mistake identities when in a state of half-awareness, he knew.

"Get down to the Bridge," Athrun said sternly, moving away when he was satisfied Kira was getting up. "A ZAFT fleet is on it's way here. The Kusanagi has sent out some Astrays to defend, but there looks to be at least five ships. They won't be able to do it alone."

Kira was up with a start, nearly knocking Athrun over in his haste to reach the small locker across from his bed that held his Orb Ensign uniform. He was dressed in a matter of thirty seconds, and following Athrun down to the Bridge right after. Mechanics and other crew were floating by startlingly quickly in their haste to report to their respective stations, most of which were either near the engines or in the hangar.

"How did they find us so quickly?" Kira frowned, rubbing at his cheek in thought. "We were careful to stay away from any of their military posts when we departed Mendel, weren't we?"

"We were," Athrun agreed absently, "but we have been forced to move relatively slowly because of the need to avoid detection."

"So this fleet traced us?"

Athrun nodded. "It would appear so."

The two filed into the Bridge one after the other, Athrun moving over to one side while Kira pulled himself over to the captain's chair, glancing out at the expanse of space that greeted him beyond the window of the Bridge. "What's the situation?" he asked as neutrally as he could, begging his heart to stop hammering in his chest at the thought of actually having to command – curse Murrue and her refusal to do so – during such a dire time.

"Six Nazca class ships," Arnold replied hesitantly, wincing at the number the moment he'd said it. "So far they have deployed ten Cgues, but I imagine they have far more." He paused and glanced back at Kira, frowning at the surely panicky expression that had spread across his face. "The Kusanagi and Re-HOME have deployed ten Astrays, and we are holding our own at the moment, but..."

"Have Dearka deploy in the Buster." Kira turned to Athrun and said, "Will Yzak be willing to help us fight ZAFT even though we don't have a common goal?"

"Dearka and I can try."

"How is Re-HOME handling itself?" he asked as he turned back to Arnold, noting that the corner of his eye picked up an Astray moving past the Archangel and destroying an approaching Cgue.

"The Kusanagi is providing support, but the enemy seems more concerned with targeting us," Arnold replied with a shrug, steering the Archangel in a sharp downward descent as a missile passed by relatively harmlessly.

"What are our options?" Kira asked, hoping that the influx of questions would keep wandering minds from the fact that he had absolutely_ no_ idea what he was doing.

"If we fall back, it's a sure thing that either the Kusanagi or Re-HOME – or both – will be lost. Without the Eternal to watch over us, we're on our own."

"Alright," Kira nodded, inspiration striking itself in the form of the natural intuition he was forced to display during moments of quick thinking on the battlefield. "Miriallia, clear Dearka for launch. Athrun, go try and convince Yzak to help." Kira stuck his tongue through gritted teeth distastefully at the thought of Yzak denying the request, especially when they were, albeit unspoken, allies. "Whether he assists or not, they will be defending the Archangel. We need to defend the ships long enough to pull away from here and get some distance between us and their fleet."

"Nazca-class ships are faster than the Archangel," Athrun pointed out helpfully. Kira shot him a withering look over his shoulder.

"Even so, Athrun, it's our only option." Kira frowned at that notion, though it was quickly shaken off. He should have been used to working under massive amounts of pressure, after all – this was simply a different form of pressure. "It's either that or sit here and be killed," he added as an afterthought, though it had the desired effect of staving off all other comments on the matter.

"Two Cgues incoming!" Miriallia cried suddenly, evidently disrupted in her attempts to prepare Dearka – presuming he was even willing to, Kira added mournfully – for launch.

"Is the Buster ready to launch?" Kira asked frantically. From the corner of his eye he saw Miriallia shake her head, though she did say something along the lines of, "I'm working on it," under her breath, which was a positive note.

"The Astrays are all preoccupied," Sai added, much to the displeasure of Kira's increasing desperation. Why couldn't they realize he wasn't cut out for this?!

"Fire the Helldarts!" Kira cried, hoping it was indeed the Helldarts – he had heard Murrue say something along those lines enough times, surely.

His more practical approach to commanding seemed to pay off. As the two Cgue entered the line of vision of the Archangel's Bridge, missiles suddenly poured in from both sides and buffeted them, leaving nothing but scraps of metal in their wake. Kira winced at his inability to not kill them – that was another part of making these decisions that bothered him; he simply couldn't take a detached attitude toward having to kill people now that he had taken to dismantling suits with the Freedom.

"Buster, ready to launch!" Miriallia shouted unnecessarily, and the Buster passed in front of the Archangel several seconds later, rifle already in hand and firing. "The Duel is requesting permission to launch!"

"The Duel?" Kira looked toward the other side of the Bridge, noticing for the first time that Athrun had left. "Permission granted. And tell Dearka to pay attention to the left side of the ship – it's harder for the ship to hit mobile suits coming in from that side."

A moment of rare silence – even rarer, given the general buzz of activity that had infested the Bridge – passed them by, Kira welcoming the reprieve with open arms. He could feel his uniform clinging to his back from the sweat forming there, and he felt as heated as he did when in a mobile suit. A new sense of appreciation for Murrue and all she had done as Captain overwhelmed him, but it was swiftly and decicively squashed by his annoyance at her duties being forced upon him. When it was quite obvious he had no affinity for commanding, whatsoever.

"More Cgues!" Arnold shouted, glancing back at Kira for half a second before quickly returning to his job. "Five... ten... thirteen more!"

"Hurry up with the retreat!" Kira replied, before he'd really had time to consider the information hitting him. "Group together with the Kusanagi and Re-HOME; we're going to provide support for them. Have the Astrays work on keeping them away from the ships."

"There are Cgues attacking the Kusanagi as well," Sai interjected, scowling in Kira's direction. "What can we do?"

"I think I may have the answer to that." Kira's eyes fell on the doorway where Erica was now standing, a poorly concealed smile on her face. "Come to the hangar with me, Kira."

Kira nodded pensively and floated in Erica's direction, turning slightly to look at the Bridge crew, "Get Athrun down here and have him take my place until I get back."

"Oh, you won't be coming back," Erica quickly cut him off.

"... Have him take my place," Kira repeated, curious more than ever to see what had Erica so giddy.

* * *

"That's..." Kira stuttered, staring in awe at the mobile suit standing where the Freedom once had – and it certainly hadn't been there the last time he was in the hangar.

"Good to see you remember your old mobile suit," Erica grinned, gesturing to the Strike look-alike before them. "This is the GAT-X105 Strike-X. Now, I know the name is a little unoriginal, but bear with me." When Kira nodded, still in shellshocked awe of the suit before him, Erica continued, "It is essentially the Strike recreated, using spare parts we didn't need from both the Strike Rouge and the old Strike. That's not to say it's the same suit, because it isn't, and the little differences were nearly impossible to pull off."

"It looks the same to me," Kira pointed out, frowning in thought. "A little bit taller, like the Freedom, but the same otherwise."

"It's appearance remains unchanged, for the most part, yes." The platform they were standing on rose slightly, moving them so that they were lever with the suit's chest. Upon closer inspection, this variation of the Strike had the hip mounted railguns of the Freedom, and it's head more closely resembled that of the Freedom. It had small, blue wings protruding from the back that resembled those of the Aile Striker Pack. Otherwise, though, it maintained it's distinctly Strike-like appearance, and rightly so.

"So what are the differences?"

"As you can see, the Strike-X uses the railguns that you seem to be fond of using with the Freedom." Erica grinned, looked down at the clipboard in her hands, and then continued, "We also managed to recover the Neutron Jammer Canceller from the Freedom, so you won't find yourself running on a battery anymore, either. Concequently, the power output of the Strike-X rivals that of the Freedom, though with the exception of the railguns it's armaments are no different than the original Strike."

"The wings on the back lead me to believe it lacks the use of the Striker packs that the Strike had."

"And so it is," Erica nodded, gesturing toward the wings. "Those serve no real purpose, though I have found in test simulations they provide better stability in atmospheric flight. The problem is, we ran into troubles trying to use the Striker packs along with the Neutron Jammer Canceller – I can't for the life of me figure out why."

"The Strike-X..." Kira backtracked. "What's the X for?"

"No reason," Erica shrugged. "Believe it or not, I have a slight flare for the dramatics as well. Don't spread it around, though."

"Mmm," Kira hummed, returning to his pleasant disbelief of the Strike/Freedom hybrid that stood before him. "I take it that it's ready for use?"

"As soon as you're ready to get out there and show ZAFT what it means to pick a fight with the heroes of this war."

"I really don't think we're..."

"Don't be so humble, Kira. Go with it."

* * *

"Kira, you're ready for launch," Miriallia said tonelessly.

"Alright," Kira nodded. "And Mir, I..." he paused. Was he sorry? What did he have to be sorry for, anyway? She already knew where he stood in this... argument... and he couldn't exactly apologize for being logical, if a little harsh, could he? He gave up the idea of trying to make sense of the situation without much of a fight. "... Kira Yamato, Strike-X, launching."

He had hardly five seconds before he was flung from the linear catapult, thrusters roaring to life and keeping him in place while he searched around. He was dimly aware of Miriallia monotonously giving him a briefing of the situation – Dearka holding off a few Cgues on starboard and Yzak running rampant on the ZAFT forces wherever they could be found – while he got a feel for his surroundings. Another Cgue was shot down by the Gottfried as it neared the Archangel, though it's comrade in the suicidal assault continued to near, bringing it's rifle to point as it went.

Kira sped toward it, expertly flickering into his SEED state, feeling the familiar yet always unique sensation of his senses coming into full focus. With an effortlessness that would hardly have been possible were he not making full use of his senses, Kira brought his rifle to point and fired, destroying the rifle held by the Cgue. As it turned to him in what Kira presumed was shock, Kira sped at it and flung it aside with a highly acrobatic kick, drawing his beam saber and detaching both it's arms before it could right itself again.

The difference between the Strike-X and the Strike Rouge was immediate to Kira. No matter how much he used it, he simply couldn't feel at place using the Strike Rouge, not when it so badly impeded his abilities to fight the way he liked to. The Strike-X offered the Freedom's simplicity in dismantling, and it was that feature above all others that renewed Kira's love for the forbidden Neutron Jammer Canceller. The Strike Rouge had been acceptable in fighting the way he preferred, true, but it simply didn't give him the vastly superior movement he needed in order to overpower vast amounts of mobile suits the way he did. The railguns, useful though they were – though that usefulness was lessened by an evident lack of the Full Burst Mode that made the Freedom so good at what it did – would have to take an unfortunate second in that area.

Feeling the familiar strength of the Freedom in his hands made Kira's senses all the more anxious. There were two Cgues locked down with three Astrays to his left – he'd noticed them the moment he'd launched, though he'd been otherwise occupied at the time – and the Duel was almost right in front of him, eagerly dancing around two other Cgues and hitting deflecting their every effort to do it harm. His already fragile relationship, if it could be considered so, with Yzak probably wouldn't appreciate him helping the arrogant and headstrong pilot, so Kira turned toward the Astrays and hurried to their aid.

One of the Astrays exploded in a haze of fire and shrapnel, and Kira had scarcely five seconds to close the distance between him and one of the Cgues before it and it's comrade had surrounded the other two Astrays. With a cry that was not entirely unlike the pained ones Kira found being commonplace in his battles in the passed – the similarity disturbed Kira greatly – he took his beam saber to the back of one of the Cgues, removing the arm with which it had been holding it's rifle.

"Weight is slightly unbalanced on the right side..." Kira mumbled insensibly, bringing his shield up just in time to block as a Cgue's heavy sword crashed against it, threatening to throw him aside with the sheer force of the blow alone. "Shield is twenty percent more powerful, slows movement in right arm by five percent compared to the rifle or beam saber..." Kira continued to commit certain aspects of the suit's features to memory while he danced around the Cgue, exchanging between swings of his saber and blocking with his shield – the way his sword swung marginally faster than it had even with the Freedom, and how his rifle's aiming was more precise if he aimed while grasping it with both hands, though in hindsight somebody even remotely educated in firearms should have known that. These little details, insignificant though they seemed, all contributed greatly to Kira's growing ability to pilot the unfamiliar suit, his mind racing as fast as ever in order to process everything at once.

By that time, the Astrays had already managed to overpower and outmanoeuvre the other Cgue before turning their attention to the one that had, according to Kira's studious observations, grown quite frustrated in it's heated attempts to overpower him. He swerved away from another swing of the heavy sword and ducked as it followed through with a horizontal swing, coming up and blocking as it made one final swing. Kira winced as the jarring of his suit's arm sent a similar shockwave of pain through his own arm, which only served to add to his relief when the Astrays easily dispatched the distracted Cgue.

"Help the Kusanagi retreat," Kira ordered through gritted teeth. "I'll take over here."

"Will you be okay on your own, Sir?" came the reply, a female's voice slightly muffled by static and by the din of battle – well, explosions and more explosions, anyway.

Wait... Sir? When had he, the heroic pilot of the Freedom and the murderous gun of which Lacus had once held the trigger, become a _Sir_? When had the Three Ships Alliance's rabid wolf – though anyone who knew Kira, himself included, would beg to differ on such a distinction – become somebody that his once-peers spoke to in formality?

"I-I'll be fine," Kira stuttered, still taken aback by the sudden formality with which he had been addressed. "Just go. I'll be ---"

"Kira, the Strike Rouge has launched!" Miriallia cried, all pretense of anger either gone or momentarily forgotten. Kira would have taken a moment to analyze that, but the fact that the Strike Rouge had launched and that it wasn't him in it was a vastly more important subject.

"Cagalli..." Kira gritted his teeth, hastening to locate any sign of the offending suit around him. Nothing, which meant Cagalli was probably trying to avoid his wrath. Why she felt she needed to was beyond him – it wasn't like she'd never fought before, and it was perfectly reasonable to assume she would again... On the other hand, his present reaction was proof enough of her necessity to avoid him. But why did it bother him so much? While he'd never been thrilled to know that Cagalli was risking her life doing the duty that should have been his and his alone, he'd long since come to terms with her reasons for doing it. Even when she'd sped off to aid Athrun in taking out the GENESIS at Yachin Due, fully aware that the slightest slip up by either of them would have resulted in him losing his only blood relative, he hadn't felt this sort of ache. The sort of ache that he had felt when he watched the Eternal explode, but... perhaps more painful than even that.

It was a sense of dread that reminded Kira almost too much of the feelings that had invaded him that fateful day at Mendel. That day when Rau, albeit with sinister intentions in mind, had revealed to him the truth of his existence. The truth behind all of the lies and fabrications that he had come to accept as realities. His being born into the Hibiki family of scientists, being used by his own father as an experimental subject in a revolutionary development in Coordinators, his being the first and only successful Ultimate Coordinator to be created... the feeling of not belonging. Cagalli was the only person he could cling to now, knowing that reality. The Yamato family would always be his and he would always be Kira Yamato, but he knew deep down that Cagalli, who was similarly stranded from her own family by the truth of her birth, was the only true family he had left. No matter where they stood in life, a small part of them would always be Kira and Cagalli Hibiki. And Kira wouldn't – couldn't – let that tie be broken. Not for anything.

"Not so tough without the Freedom, are you!" A pilot mocked, apparently unknowing of the fact that several other ZAFT pilots had engaged him with the same thought in mind and met a subsequently unfortunate end, just before Kira sensed the approach of another Cgue at his side. He ducked just in time to avoid a sword swing, turning on the Cgue with an anger that surprised him as much as it scared him and dispatched it with a flick of the wrist, removing the arm that had been holding the sword in the blink of an eye.

"Get out of my way," Kira growled, kicking aside the now-weaponless suit and continuing on his way. He noticed only too late just how agitated he felt, a sort of anger overwhelming him that he hadn't felt since Tolle died. A part of him feared that sort of feeling, but the larger part of him – the part of him that was more concerned with saving Cagalli than he was with saving the Archangel – welcomed the anger as an outlet with which to fuel his strength. As another Cgue closed in, he pulled out his rifle and fired quickly, removing it's head. The suit continued to move with considerably less coordination than it had displayed prior to being beheaded, and Kira made short work of removing it's arms and leaving it helpless in place.

When he finally found Cagalli, she was pinned down, dancing around three Cgues and trying desperately – unsuccessfully – to fend them all off. Kira gasped against his will when one easily navigated around to her side and fired, hitting her in the side and sending the Strike Rouge into a small descent. Cagalli whirled around and fired, but the Cgue was already long gone, moving in unison with one of it's two allies to keep her preoccupied while the third tried to repeat what that one had just done. Before it could get a shot off, however, Kira intervened, firing with his own rifle at the rifle of the third Cgue, destroying it. When the Cgue turned to him he swiftly closed the distance between them, deftly removing it's head with a swing of his beam saber.

"I don't need your help," Cagalli snapped, moving around Kira and throwing up her shield as a sword crashed against it. She was thrown back when a second sword struck her sword in quick succession, forcing her to fend off two at once. Her shocked cry reverberated in Kira's ears for a long few seconds before he snapped, charging at the Cgues with beam saber drawn. Neither could turn fast enough to avoid his assault or to fend it off, leaving both of them helpless as he methodically dismantled them. When finally he was satisfied with his handiwork, both were left as little more than floating bodies, deprived of arms, legs and their heads.

"The Archangel needs _our_ help," Kira shot back, grinning in depraved satisfaction at the way he managed to sound as Cagalli-like as... Cagalli.

"They need your help! I can handle myself!" Cagalli cried, though her claim was rendered moot when she barely managed to get her shield up in time to stop a distant rifle shot from taking out her cockpit.

"And I need your help," Kira said quietly, choosing the better path in not playing on Cagalli's apparent weakness. The last thing he needed, after all, was an absolutely furious Cagalli to contend with in the midst of battle. Though his chivalrous efforts too were thwarted when he saw another Cgue coming in from Cagalli's side, clearly unnoticed, and he moved to intercept it. A brief duel began, finally ending with the Cgue overpowered and it's arms subsequently removed. The pilot cursed murderously under his breath, though the words themselves were lost upon Kira's ears.

"You don't seem to need my help," Cagalli quipped bitterly, reminding Kira all too quickly that a jealous or a disgruntled Cagalli – and she was both, though Kira knew she'd never admit it – was many times worse than an angry one. An angry Cagalli could at least be spoken to, even if the repurcussions of such a bold action were sometimes life threatening.

"I..." Kira sighed heavily. "This is my job, Cagalli. Lacus worried about politics, making sure our efforts weren't in vain – all the things that, beyond the fighting, were actually important. I was her gun. When it came time to fight, I was the gun she loosed on everyone, the Clyne's secret weapon. And with the Freedom, I did just that – I fought and I fought no matter how much I hated it, because it's all I was good for. That's what has become of me – I am a weapon to push us toward peace. But that doesn't mean I did it all alone. I need help, Cagalli, and I... I need your help, too. No matter how much I wish you weren't out here fighting."

Kira wasn't an occult or anything remotely resembling such a thing, but even without any paranormal sensory he could feel the negative emotions welling inside Cagalli evaporate as he spoke, replaced with something indecipherable but not unwelcome. He was almost afraid she would continue to yell at him regardless – she had been known to pull a Nice-Cagalli/Angry-Cagalli hybrid in which she'd find a way to yell at him with that achingly sweet tone of voice of her's that once upon a time was capable of soothing him no matter how badly he ached, no matter how much he had hurt from one occurrence or another over the course of the war.

The Nice-Angry hybrid Cagalli didn't yell, though. She didn't even speak with an edge to her voice, much to Kira's surprise – getting anything but a heated, angry Cagalli in the midst of battle was a virtual impossibility. She spoke with a comforting tone of voice, the tone she used with him occasionally – not as often as he would have liked – that made him long to hug her, to feel the comfort that only his fellow Hibiki relative could give him. The comfort he'd once relied upon his mother for; the comfort he knew he'd never experience wholly with anyone except Cagalli now. "You won't be a weapon forever, Kira," she said softly. "When it finally ends, we will go back to Orb. We will rebuild it, and you will have a home there, where you should be."

Those words echoed in his head with such authority that it was surprising he had room to think of anything else. Could he find a home in Orb? After all was said and done, would he be able to settle down? Would he live the life of the common man, working for a living as he'd always expected to? Or would he find a place in Orb's military, forever reminded of the possibility of him to becoming a weapon being a necessity? So little was certain about his future, and so little could be said of the present... It perturbed Kira, though, to think that he could move on from all of this – whatever 'this' was – and live a normal life in spite of the lives he had taken. He could never be like other soldiers, moving on and treating the lives he had taken as though they hadn't mattered. How could that be so, especially when he knew not how many he had killed, nevermind how to atone for them all?

All of this attacked his mind relentlessly until finally, realizing that now _really_ wasn't the time to be pondering life-altering choices and other matters of likewise importance, he dismissed all thoughts entirely. There would be a time and a place to consider where his future rested, but the fighting – the present – came first. Not only for the sake of that future, but also for the sake of their survival to see that future. "Let's go," Kira said gruffly, hardening his focus on his surroundings once again. One... two... four Cgues still remained, by his count, and the Duel and Buster were working on two of them. "Let's see if we can't escape to make that future a reality, hmm?"

* * *

Several hours later, long after the fighting had ended, Kira once again found himself in the familiarly dull Bridge of the Archangel, sitting in the captain's chair and wondering just why they hadn't yet decided to drop the charade that was him in a position of actual authority. His fingers drummed along the arm of the chair while he struggled to keep himself from having a nervous breakdown, ignoring the occasional irritated protest Miriallia made. If he was Captain, than he was going to flaunt that authority all he liked. If all went well, sooner or later either good sense or utter insanity would result in the realization that he needed to be removed from the captain's chair on grounds that hopefully centered around 'ineptitude'. And he would agree wholeheartedly, surrendering his position humbly and without question, of course.

Matters of his own ineptitude and of the outrageously misfit situation in which he'd been placed were not of the most important sort on his mind, however. There were matters of far more dire importance that required his thoughts more than simple matters of his being a Captain did. Such as: How had ZAFT so easily caught up with them? Or, how were they supposed to fight without the Clyne Faction backing their every effort? Some of these questions were ones that had required thought in the past, but so long as answers continued to elude him, so would their importance remain.

In the case of the former, Kira was as much at a loss as he was with everything else. Athrun had chalked it down to simply being a matter of ZAFT's faster ships overtaking them, but Kira couldn't help but feel as though that were incorrect. After all, had that been the case than ZAFT wouldn't have sent such a paltry force to engage them. No matter how arrogant the Coordinators were, past battles with the Archangel ought to have convinced them that taking the 'Legged Ship' lightly invited disaster, as it had today. This fact was all the more true now that the Archangel wasn't running simply on the defensive capabilities of the Strike and Moebius Zero, but rather an entire squadron's worth of Astrays, as well as the Buster and the Duel. That being said, had they truly been able to overtake them as swiftly as Athrun were suggesting, they would have amassed a much larger force with which to do it. Twenty or so Cgues could hardly be considered an adequate force with which to squash the remnants of the Three Ships Alliance, even if they were just that – remnants.

But on the other hand, had the case been that they'd been found simply by fluke or even if ZAFT had known where they were all along, the strength of the attack force simply didn't seem right. Sure ZAFT had to expend much of it's space fleet to the task of taking out the increasingly powerful Earth Alliance forces, which was a losing battle given the sheer numerical advantage with which the EA fought, but they should have still had forces to spare to hunt down the Archangel, right? Forces that exceeded a meager fleet of five Nazca-class ships and a squadron of Cgues. So what was going on that he wasn't aware of, that he wasn't sure he wanted to be aware of, that was holding them back? And if ZAFT had managed to find them, why had the EA made no effort to do the same?

There were simply too many questions that Kira didn't have the answer to, as it was. ZAFT's inexplicable self-sacrifice, the absence of any EA fleets whatsoever... there was something that just didn't sit well with Kira about it all. Things were going too smoothly for them, given their situation. Surely, somewhere things were going to go so terribly that it would innevitably bring the Archangel and it's allies back to the brink of extermination, right? Kira was certain that this unsettling feeling wouldn't go away until they were once again fighting desperately just to survive, as he'd grown so accustomed to doing. So accustomed, in fact, that he felt more at home having to defend the Archangel than he did taking an offensive, as he had at Yachin Due. But that was neither here nor there.

But what if that were the case? What if all of this – whatever 'all of this' happened to be – was simply build-up to a climax so dramatic and so inevitably destructive that he didn't want to imagine it? What if, somewhere behind the scenes, people far more evil than Murata Azrael and Patrick Zala were waiting, biding their time for the perfect moment to destroy everything Kira had accomplished in a year's worth of sacrifice and torment? What if Blue Cosmos and the ZAFT radical faction, as had been the case when Rau still lived, were tools to an evil far greater, with far more sinister ends than simply extinction? Extinction had seemed far too simple for a truly sinister plan, after all, even if the build-up had all the right signs of it being the typical diabolical master plan of a crazed madman bent on some form of destruction... That being said, the possibility of a greater evil being at work seemed far more possible than Kira dared to admit to himself. Even if the basis of this theory was on his knowledge drawn from stories of heroes and evil villains.

"Captain," Arnold called respectfully – inadvertently making Kira wonder why he'd not only inherited Murrue's position but also her title now, as well. "We're clear to retreat. Sensors aren't picking up anything, radars are clear and our visuals are good."

Kira nodded absently, putting aside his thoughts for a more private moment. "Let's get going then. Get me in touch with the Kusanagi, though, please."

"Got it," Arnold said unnecessarily – as far as Kira was concerned, at any rate. The entire ship rumbled as it once again came to life and began moving, though the slow sensation of the ship's movement was vastly different to Kira when compared to being inside a mobile suit.

As Kira looked up, a small screen came down over the upper half of the windshield displaying the Sound Only message. Through it filtered Kisaka's voice, exhausted and heavy from presumably hours of work – work on what, however, Kira couldn't begin to guess. "Ledonir Kisaka of the Kusanagi. Is that you, Captain Ramius?"

"Captain Ramius is out of commission," Kira answered. "I'm taking her place."

"Kira?" Kisaka sounded surprised, and Kira could understand perfectly why he would be. "Why are you acting Captain?

"Murrue has lost the will to keep fighting. In her stead, I am ensuring the ship's safety the only way I can." Kira paused, but he made sure not to give Kisaka any time to press the issue. "How is the Kusanagi holding out?"

"As you can tell, our ship got hit hard and is running at only seventy percent of it's full power – as such, we have had to use our power conservatively, hence why this is Sound Only." Mumbling was heard in the distance, presumably from Kisaka talking to other people. "On top of that, several of our weapons have been damaged or outright destroyed, and several mobile Astrays both from us and the ReHOME were lost."

Kira nodded, realizing only after the fact that he hadn't had any visual to nod to. "And what about the ZAFT force? Do you have any information on them?"

Kisaka didn't answer at first, but that didn't surprise Kira as much as the words that followed, "They were waiting for us."

* * *

To those who wonder, no I did not enjoy giving the new Strike such a stupid name. But after several hours spent going over how I could create a mobile suit that wouldn't be underpowered (the Duel and Buster almost seemed to be in the last episodes of Seed, so I suspect the Strike would be as well) while not being at a Freedom level of being overpowered, Strike X was the only way I could aptly name it, really. And in terms of appearance, it strongly resembles the Strike Noir, if you need something to go by.

Next chapter will be the first of several to be named after this story's inspiration: TM Revolution. Where the names are fitting, chapters will be named after Takanori's music. So hopefully you won't be waiting too long for Chapter 4: Web of Night.


	4. Interlude One: Cagalli

I know what I said this chapter would be, but I changed my mind – that will be next chapter. Instead, I felt the need to finally really establish the importance of characters (aside from Kira as the protagonist, as beyond that there's no real semblance of character importance). And so this chapter (and several others down the line) will be an Interlude chapter, fallowing a different character's perspective. This chapter, as the name may suggest, is for Cagalli. It isn't nearly as productive as the past three have been, but rather an inside look on the life of Cagalli Yula Attha, if that makes a suitable explanation.

* * *

It wasn't as it had once been.

Here she was, laying in bed with the sheets pressed against her clothed body, wondering just what had changed. The sheets were still the same, the room was still the same, the man laying beside her – Athrun, also fully clothed – was the same. But the feeling wasn't the same. She didn't feel satisfied just knowing that Athrun was laying next to her, looking out for her, caring for her. She didn't feel the need to open her eyes, to turn on her side and watch him as he slept, watching his mouth hang only slightly open as breaths passed in and out of his inviting lips every few seconds. Hell, his lips could hardly be described as 'inviting' to her now. They had once been the greatest of comforts for her, a safety net to run to when the pressure and the pain of their recent losses grew too great to handle. But when she had sought comfort in those same lips last night, intent on washing away the pain of her comrades and countrymen dying in an ultimately pointless conflict in his arms, she had felt nothing. The spark that had once set her aflame had been replaced with a cold chill that, rather than lulling her to sleep, had made her restless for hours after he had fallen into slumber.

So what, in the tragic and ever changing life of Princess Cagalli Yula Attha, had changed?

It wasn't as though anything life altering had happened – save for Lacus' recent death, of course, but that hardly had anything to do with her romantic involvement with the girl's former fiancé. Her life had been more or less the same: occasional meetings with Kisaka, spending time with Athrun when lapses in their respective duties allowed, caring for her secretly crumbling mess of a twin brother... Okay, so crumbling wasn't necessarily the best way to put it. He was quite composed after all, despite the fact that she could tell he was fighting his share of inner demons. Guilt and regret nagged at him like two angry pests, reminding him over and over that his hands were stained and that those closest to him had died, inadvertently because of him. And while he didn't seem bothered by it, the continued necessity to fight and the weight placed on his shoulders by Murrue was trying his sanity, in more ways than one. Cagalli dearly wished she could lighten the load, help him stand by offering him a shoulder to place some weight on, but she could not. Aside from fighting alongside him, which agitated him more than it helped him, there was nothing she could do.

"Cagalli?" Athrun asked groggily, sitting up next to her and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Despite that, he still looked absolutely exhausted; a telltale sign of how much the previous day's fighting had tolled on all of them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, a bit too unconvincingly for her own liking. "Just couldn't sleep."

Athrun nodded absently, clearly too tired to put extensive thought into what she'd said. Kira, at least, would have dedicated his every waking effort to helping her, with no care for his own health... Wait, what?

"Was it the battle?" Athrun asked, wrapping his arm around her slim waist in a manner that had once been as comforting as his oh so inviting lips, but now left her with a hollow feeling of unyielding longing in her chest. "Kisaka said they were waiting for us, and Kira is looking into it, okay? We shouldn't worry about what we can't help, right? Just go back to sleep."

She had registered his words, of course, but they had all become jumbled together roughly around when he had mentioned Kira. Granted, that was also when her heart decided to begin trying to ram it's way out of her chest and her stomach decided to try to see if it could turn itself into a pretzel, but those were two facts she tried not to think about. Especially when they were so deliciously and disconcertingly distracting.

"But what if it's bigger than what we're thinking?" she asked randomly, trying to give convincing reason to her very uncharacteristic behavior. "What if this is just the beginning? Blue Cosmos were bad enough, and the fighting is still going on even though they are gone... Could it be there is something worse out there?"

Athrun didn't answer that question... Would Kira have? Would he have ignored the fact that she was probably best off not knowing, and tell her the truth because he would have felt guilty not having done so? There were many questions she didn't have the answer to, many of which centered around Kira himself. But there would be time to get those answers, right? Whether they had to be given to her, or whether they were questions for her to learn the answers to herself?

* * *

Cagalli wondered, as she watched him poke at the food on his tray, if Kira truly did make as great an effort to be strong as she thought. Sure, the recent days had not been happy ones, but she wasn't curled up in a ball and on the border of hysterics, either. Was Kira? Was he spending his nights dreaming of those he thought he had wronged, those whose lives he had taken and the families broken apart because of him? By comparison to how much death the war had wrought, the amount he had done was a vast minority, but even that comparatively small amount ate away at him fiercely. What if he had been forced to use something more destructive, or been the one behind all the death wrought by the GENESIS? If he had, Cagalli doubted he'd still be sane.

"We are going to be okay for a while, Kira," Cagalli tried, poking her fork in his direction while she chewed – or at least tried to, as the act of talking while chewing and all the while not looking like a complete slob was taxing. "Try to lighten up, huh? Everybody else will feel worse if they see you like this..." Like me, she had wanted to add, but thought better of giving voice to the pretzel-formation going on in her stomach as she saw his piercing eyes lift themselves from his plate to met her eyes.

"I don't want to fight," Kira sighed, pushing away his tray. "Isn't there a peaceful way of ending all of this? I'm tired..."

"Of having to fight?"

"Of everything," he groaned, tightly grasping his hair between his fingers and tugging. "Until a year ago, I was a pacifist and an assistant at a college on Helliopolis. I had a future, or at least everyone said so, and I had a good life. It was dull at times, but what isn't?

"Now..." he sighed again, crossing his arms on the table and dropping his head into them, looking sideways toward a distant wall. "Now I'm a murderer. A soldier. I don't think I can ever return to that life."

Cagalli stayed silent, watching him carefully as he bit into his small loaf of bread before setting it aside, washing it down with a large gulp of water. His eyes stayed on her the entire time, as though he were waiting for her to say something. He knew she had more to say, just as he had said. And by the look in his eyes, he seemed completely intent on listening to her no matter what it was.

"I..." she started, unsure of what she even wanted to say.

"I'm going to find out who's pressuring the war, Cagalli," Kira said suddenly, surprising her with the determination in his voice, contrasting his previously depressing demeanor. "We will not let this war continue. Too many people have died for it to be allowed to continue. And," he sighed, "I have killed too many. I will atone by not letting them die in vain."

"You..." Ever the eloquent one, she thought bitterly of her inability to form a coherent statement. Why did Kira have to be so helpless and so surprisingly determined all at once? Her stomach certainly wasn't appreciating it, weaving itself into ever intricate knots while she watched his lips open and close, a small stream of water passing from his water bottle and through them.

"Athrun wants the war to end, too," Kira continued, raising an eyebrow at her. "Is he not sharing his thoughts with you?"

"He, he is..." Cagalli sighed and threw her head back, congratulating herself on breaking her disgustingly schoolgirl-like spell. "It's just, he's so worried about the war getting out of hand that he isn't even thinking about anything else."

"Like you?" Kira laughed, reaching across the table to poke Cagalli in the center of the forehead. "Selfish."

"Stop," Cagalli growled, effectively evading Kira's teasing. "He doesn't even grieve though, you know? I asked him once if he was hurting because his former fiancé had died, and he said that thinking about that would only create problems! It makes me wonder ---"

"--- If he'd feel anything had you died, in Lacus' place?"

Cagalli stared at Kira for a moment, dumbstruck by his frighteningly accurate perception. "Yeah..."

"Don't worry about it," Kira said, waving his hand dismissively. "He knows that we can't grieve right now. If we do, it will stop us from fighting at our best."

"But..."

"If we can't fight at our best," Kira said seriously, "the war will last that much longer. Is that the proper way to grieve for Lacus?"

Cagalli nodded sullenly, tossing Kira's words around in her mind. "It's not that I don't know that, but... he's not even a soldier right now, right? He can afford to grieve, can't he?"

"He is one of us," Kira replied, his eyes alight with a seriousness and guilt that Cagalli felt pained to see. "If he shows weakness, we all will. I can hold myself up like this, but I..."

"It will only be for a little while longer, Kira," Cagalli interrupted, trying to sound as soothing as possible. "When this is over, we will be able to rest. And you won't have any reason to feel guilty anymore, right?"

"... Yeah..."

* * *

It would be hard to say for absolute sure what it was, but Cagalli could only deduce that her brother had far more of an effect on her than she had thought – or possibly realized. The sullen tone of voice he had used when resigning himself to the situation, the dull look in his eyes as they met her's, all but begging for her help and comfort, had made her feel inexplicably horrible all day. She felt like some filthy thing for being unable to do as he wished, giving him a small smile of reassurance and a brief farewell before running off to meet Athrun in the hangar. And all Athrun had had to say was that Murdoch had been unable to find enough parts to repair the small damage done to the Strike Rouge in the last battle and that he and Kira would have to talk with Orb's higher-ups in the hopes of getting some form of resupplying. There had been no talk of anything but business and of their own desperate situation, disregarding the growing but still unidentifiable problem in their relationship. The one Cagalli was starting to think was taking the shape of her beloved brother.

But that was how it had come to be. She wasn't sure when or how it had happened, but the role of comfort in her life had returned to Kira, as it had been before he became her brother. And with that distinction came the gradual return of her buried feelings, the ones she wasn't supposed to be allowed to feel, no matter what. She knew that, of course, and she knew that it couldn't continue this way. Maybe Kira could convince Athrun to be more thoughtful... No, because that would still be Kira's doing. Why did he have to be so strong? Why couldn't he be like Athrun explained him to be, weak and needing protecting? The only time he was like that was when matters of the heart were concerned, where his heart's cracks poured forth all the pain he felt but never expressed. Maybe it was true, though. Maybe Kira was the one that was meant to fill that role in her life, and for her to fill that role in his life, sin though it may be.

She would never tell anybody that, though. That would be a truth best left unsaid.

* * *

Filler, anybody? Necessary filler, though. Enjoy, hate me for it, do whatever you like. Story is back on track next chapter.


	5. Web of Night

… I recall, at the end of chapter three, saying that I hoped you wouldn't be kept waiting too long. Evidently, that was a case of reading between the lines, because I hit a brick wall in trying to write this and ended up praying for a decent muse rather than praying that I finish this chapter quickly. See, this is where things will be kicking up from the relatively confusing and mundane development we've had so far, and an actual plot begins to take shape. Like many things it will be riddled with mystery, what with this fic being almost entirely from Kira's point of view, but it's a start nonetheless.

* * *

They had been waiting for them...

Kira slammed his fist into the wall, gritting his teeth as, once again, he failed to make any sense of that. How could they have been? They didn't have a spy in their ranks, they were careful to avoid enemy confrontation until the last minute... It would have taken somebody in the Orb government itself to have betrayed them – they had previously been informed that the Kusanagi and the Archangel would be retreating for safety reasons and to resupply – and something about that seemed unlikely to Kira.

More confusing than even that, though, were the battles breaking out in various regions of space. Small skirmishes almost all ending in victory for the highly more populated Earth Alliance, larger battles that were ending in premature retreats for either side, and some places where entire fleets simply stared eachother down without actually engaging in battle. If either side even really wanted to win anymore, they weren't being very convincing about it.

He direly wished he could say that there were conflicting people within the respective governments that were slowing down military affairs, but if that were the case than something as specific as authorizing several assaults on the remnants of the Three Ships Alliance shouldn't have been possible. That meant it was a coordinated plan of some sort, but one that he could not make any sense of. Hence the present predicament.

Not for the first time, the thought of an outside organization much like Blue Cosmos being the cause of these strange happenings occurred to Kira. But for that to be possible they would have to be manipulating both sides, which was both senseless and nigh impossible. The sort of work it would take to hijack not one, but two governments was something Kira could not fathom.

Collapsing against the warm, comfortable sheets of his bed, Kira sighed heavily. There were too many questions that they needed answers to, and they hardly had the strength to get those answers. Surely they would not come to them. No, they would have to get those answers themselves. Which, predictably, was problematic with them running as they had been in the past. Their fight at present was a matter of living to fight another day, but would there be another day? The war wouldn't wait for them to put an end to it, and ZAFT looked to be on the verge of extermination, losing battles on every front now that the Earth Alliance could match their mobile suits on the battlefield.

"Lacus, what is going on..."

* * *

The next morning, Kira once again awoke to the rough shaking of Athrun, but for his benefit there was an evident lack of warning sirens sounding throughout the ship. The look Athrun was giving him may as well have been one, with his face contorted into a frown, and his eyes narrowed almost menacingly. Despite these things he didn't actually look angry; simply annoyed, or perhaps irritated. Either way, it didn't bode well for Kira's sleep-deprived mind.

"I heard about the battle," he said, as though this solved all the many problems in Kira's mind, the biggest of which being his desire to push Athrun away and go back to sleep. "Just what is going on, Kira? Enemies waiting for us? That shouldn't be possible."

Kira sighed, saying farewell to any hope of getting more sleep, and sat up in bed. His covers were drawn up only to his waist and leaving his chest revealed, with a large scar running diagonally across it from the fateful battle between the two best friends over the deaths of their friends Nicol and Tolle. "I don't know," he replied honestly, ignoring the sympathetic look Athrun gave the scar on his chest. "There is too much we don't understand, and we can't get answers by running away."

"But we can't fight back, either," Athrun finished, completing the train of thought. "But then, what can we do? Even if we get resupplied, we hardly have the strength to fight back against either the Earth Alliance or ZAFT, and both continue to get stronger while we fight just to see the next morning."

Kira rolled his shoulders and let his head fall back against the multitude of pillows resting against the bed's headboard, patting his thighs to a random beat. "That didn't stop us before, did it?"

"Back then, we had the Freedom and the Justice. We could hold off small fleets of enemies on our own."

Kira knew this particular subject inside and out, having been thoroughly educated in it while trying to convince not only himself but also the various crew members who's minds had been rattled by their recent lack of success. "You don't think we can accomplish anything now," he said, posing it as a statement rather than a question. He was certain enough that it didn't need to be a question.

"We have four mobile suits and a small group of Astrays," Athrun drawled. His voice, Kira noted, suggested that he thought Kira was an idiot for thinking otherwise. "As it stands, we can barely defend ourselves. So no, I don't think we can accomplish anything.

"I do, however, think and acknowledge the necessity to fight regardless," he quickly added. "And I know just as well as anybody that you'd sooner die than give up. You always were determined to see things through – I just never thought you'd be so determined to fight, when we spent so much of our childhood talking about how great it was to be living away from the fighting, where it didn't bother us."

Kira blinked, wondering just when the conversation had turned from one of their hopeless situation to one of their pleasant past. "Athrun..." he murmured, at a loss for what else could be said.

"I know, I know," Athrun said, shrugging his shoulders. "We're both different than we were back then." Then, in what could only have been an effort to return the conversation to a more safe place, he said, "We will be in Orb territory by tomorrow, and Kisaka has confirmed a small fleet is still stationed at the Pillar. Once we get there, we should be safe long enough to resupply. But after that..."

Kira shook his head, stopping what was surely going to be a long drawn out thought of how hopeless their situation would continue to be. "We worry about getting to the Pillar for now. Let's worry about the future when it comes, right?"

It was all they could do, really.

"Ah, anyway," Athrun said hastily, the likeness of a light bulb all but forming itself atop his head. "The reason I came here was to tell you that Erica wanted to see you in the hangar."

Kira raised an eyebrow as he slowly made to climb out of bed, knowing better than to ask why – Athrun would have answered that question without it needing to be asked, had he known it to begin with. He threw off the tight fitting black pants that he had worn to bed the night before, leaving them to float throughout the room while he moved over to his locker and pulled out his uniform, putting on first the pants before pulling the uniform jacket around his body, pulling the left side of the blue and white uniform over the right and wrapping the accompanying black belt around his waist. Somewhat tight and uncomfortable, but he managed.

The necessity of making his way to the hangar was nulled when the door to his room slid open with a loud hiss, Erica floating through with a mask of mixed fury and astonishment on her face, pointing a finger accusingly at Kira. "Just what did you do to your mobile suit?"

Kira blinked and looked at Athrun for assistance, who looked just as confused as he was. "Huh?" he asked dumbly, hoping to get some idea what exactly the problem was. He had fought, disabled suits, and overall drove himself to the brink of death in the battle two days ago... It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, he thought, and his body was already used to the stress.

"It's strange," Erica said, sobering instantly – almost as if she'd never held any ill thought to begin with, and had shown such an emotion simply for her own amusement. "All it's systems are running fine, and all the tests I've run have proved that the suit is operating as it always has."

Now Kira truly wondered if all of this was a joke to get his nerves on edge, because he really couldn't see the problem at all. He voiced that thought, minus the quip regarding her propriety for jokes; he wasn't overtly fond of the idea of being on the receiving end of her anger, or worse, on the receiving end of a joke she may play on him for making such a remark.

"It's power output level is almost twice as high as it should be!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Realistically, tests are saying that the suit could outperform the Freedom in almost every way possible. Did you experience anything odd when you were piloting it?"

His immediate thought was to say no, but Kira humored her and thought about it anyway. But there wasn't a whole lot to think about; it had been like piloting the Strike always had been, without the necessity to watch for how much power the suit had left, and with railguns attached that hadn't previously been there. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be recalled, though... "No, nothing," he murmured, now at as much of a loss as she seemed to be.

Erica nodded, looking toward the ceiling and scratching at her chin. "My worry is that, with such a high output level, it may actually cause it to not function at all. Theoretically, having that much unused power could make the suit itself unstable."

The question of what had caused this problem left unanswered, Erica left his room after giving a curt nod to both boys in turn. As soon as they were alone, the desire to return to bed once again washed over Kira. Being deprived of sleep without his consent – as much consent as he could give to reliving vivid depictions of the horrors he thought he had committed night after agonizing night – seemed to be an increasingly common occurrence these days.

* * *

His attempt at returning to bed for some much needed and much deserved rest prematurely derailed by Athrun, Kira had made his way to the hangar with the intent to inspect his new suit for any abnormalities. He sat in the cockpit of the Strike-X, looking over every conceivable source of abnormality he could think of; he looked at the specifics of every single weapon, of the Neutron Jammer Canceler itself, but no logical explanation presented itself. He even reset the OS to it's original parameters and rewrote his specifications all over again, simply for good measure, but not one problem arose.

Thus the idea had come across his mind that he take the suit for a test flight, to see if any problems arise. Better now than in the midst of battle, where such a problem could mean his life, he had said to Erica. Naturally she had approved, and thus he found himself now out in the endless expanse of stars and nothingness, looking for a problem that didn't seem to exist. Twenty minutes of flying around, even using a few weapons and simulating a battle on the off chance that exerting the suit's abilities may do something, but nothing occurred.

Now, that wasn't entirely true. There was a startlingly different feel to the suit when he piloted it, almost as though it's every move were far more defined than they should have been. It wasn't until that moment that he noticed just how much the power overload affected the suit; he could aim with such precise movements that it almost felt as if he were in SEED mode, except he wasn't. He had made sure he didn't nullify his emotions and hardened his senses, as that may have done something unpleasant. What unpleasantness could have resulted, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to make that risk.

Now however, knowing the change in the suit's already exceptional power, he reached deep inside himself and nullified those emotions, letting complete apathy – he refused to acknowledge apathy as even a pseudo-emotion – wash over him and heighten his senses. The change was dramatic, more so than he thought previously possible. It felt as if the suit were his own body, bending to his will as easily as one would raise a foot. The controls still did all the maneuvering, but with every swing of the beam saber or every time the railguns at his side pointed outward, loosing two long yellow beams, he felt as if the movements were one with his body. It was empowering, in an almost intoxicating way that was most definitely unlike him. But in the state he was in – the state honed solely for the purpose of doing as much damage as possible, as per the necessity to have such a power – he couldn't bring himself to care.

But it wasn't just the power that intoxicated him; it was everything. The way he could feel the metallic joints where an elbow would otherwise have been bending when he curved the suit's arm, the way his senses were on such a high that it felt as though he were seeing through the eyes of the Strike-X itself, watching the stars and the expanse of space as though he himself were flying through it, it was all too much. Fighting like this, he found he could probably enjoy fighting. Like this, he could fight with such precision that the risk of pilots dying after he had dismantled their suits was nearly nonexistent.

He brought his arm up as if to block the swing of a beam saber with his own, and he felt as though the friction of their blades connecting and pressing against one another was actually there. The strain it put on the suit's arm felt real, identical to the force he felt when he used to clash blades with a suit that could actually measure up to his, like Rau's Providence or the three high spec suits used by Blue Cosmos. It wasn't until he felt the pressure increase that he realized that it was real – ironic, given his heightened senses, he thought.

The suit in front of him, the one that had somehow escaped his notice amidst his focus on the senses he felt, made him wonder if he was fighting a mirror. A slightly altered rendition of himself in a mirror, but that was a small fact to note when everything else about his foe was so obviously a copy of the Strike. In fact, the only noticeable differences were that the shoulder pieces of this suit were blue, and that the suit as a whole looked to be considerably smaller than the Strike, both in height and the size of it's individual body parts. The shield on it's left arm was slightly smaller as well, with a black center and a golden cross that was slightly indented from the rest of the shield. It was a curious thing, though Kira couldn't discern any advantage to such a design.

Fully aware of the things around him again, Kira noticed with nervous trepidation that they were not alone. Three other suits, all completely unique in their design and somewhat reminiscent of aforementioned suits used by Blue Cosmos, surrounded them, unmoving. He wasn't sure if they were spectators or foes waiting for the ideal moment to attack, but the sight unnerved him still.

The first of them looked almost too obscene to be believable; a navy blue body with a beam cannon mounted into it's chest, with massive shields on either arm of a blue as light as the sky, with long barrels that could only be for missiles of some kind, but what exactly they were for Kira had no idea. It looked almost reminiscent – almost – of ZAFT's aquatic mobile suits, though they were by general rule far larger than even those shields made it appear to be. Adding insult to, well, insult, the suit's thrusters were rimmed with an odd shade of purple that almost looked to be tinged with pink. And it's face took on a completely contrasting appearance in that it looked like a minotaur, with two golden horn-like antennae curving upwards from between it's eyes, which were nearly the same shade of purple as it's thrusters.

The other two were, by comparison, relatively normal in appearance. One was black, with yellow rimming around the thrusters and strange joints in it's legs that suggested the ability to transform into a quadruped, much like the Bcues. The other, while not quite as normal as the black one, was still completely ordinary when compared to the blue one. It was a darkened shade of forest green, with orange rimming around the thrusters and a far lighter and more pale green for much of it's weapons and it's legs. It had a jet fighter-like backpack attached, with the likeness of a jet's nose poking up behind it's head and two cylinders, one on either side of the backpack, that served a purpose Kira didn't dare try to identify.

He cringed as even more force was put onto his saber, more than one really should be using with a beam saber, and he was forced to back off, circling around the suit as it tried to pursue him. Kira could tell simply by the ease with which the suit moved that it too used the Neutron Jammer Canceler, which boded ill for him and his rusty skills in the art of fighting suits that could measure up to his. In the back of his mind, Kira cursed the leaders of both sides for so adamantly refusing to listen to Lacus' suggestion that they ban the use of Neutron Jammer Cancelers; he was perfectly happy breaking the rules if it meant having that small edge over his enemies.

While it probably wasn't so, to Kira's eyes it appeared as though the beam saber swinging at him was almost too slow for it to have been real. It was moving at a snail's pace, like time slowed for all but himself, and he took great pleasure in using that to his advantage, dodging around the sword and kicking the suit away with his right leg. No sooner had he done so than was the black suit upon him, two beam sabers in it's hands and both swinging. Again they seemed to move in slow motion, but finding his way around them and to an opening proved more difficult than it had with the Strike look-alike that was, according to his sensors, already nearing him again.

As he used his own beam saber to dismember one of the hands from the black suit while dodging the other sword, he wondered what he must have looked like to everybody else, who perceived time normally and saw him as somebody moving at an inhuman speed. Erica was probably laughing with excitement, delighted that, however it had happened, her creation had turned out to be so devastatingly useful. Athrun, and perhaps Cagalli, would be wearing looks of concern, wondering whether or not he was still sane while they watched him fight. He didn't even bother to think about what anybody else would think.

And at that moment, he hardly cared what anybody thought. With this kind of power, he could once again reclaim his position as the ship's sole guardian, it's lifeline and it's only hope. Nobody would have to know the horrors of war anymore; he would hold the weight of all of the torment on his own shoulders gladly, to let everybody else feel that little bit of happiness that they so sorely deserved after all they had endured. Cagalli would never need to pilot the Strike Rouge again, risking her life unnecessarily even when she knew how much it bothered him that she do so. Athrun would never need to feel guilty about being unable to fight alongside his best friend again, and would be content to let Kira handle everything.

On some level, Kira thought that those thoughts were absolutely insane. But the larger part of him, the part that had finally snapped and wanted to laugh maniacally at it all, wouldn't let the much smaller part have it's reign over his conscious thought. He knew only that moment, dodging assaults from two suits that reasonably matched him move for move with such ease that it was nearly impossible to imagine. He swerved between them, forcing them to turn in mid-swing, causing their sabers to clash with one another. The sound of a furious growl from the Strike look-alike reached his ears, the voice abnormally soft for a sound so angry. Sort of like hearing Tolle growling ferociously, Kira decided.

Before either of the two suits could break free and return to the assault, the strangely shielded mobile suit had attacked, a lance with a pink – pink! It really added further insult to the dreadfully unfortunate mobile suit – blade swinging at his head. Close as it was, not even his supernaturally altered senses could have saved him, and he desperately threw up his shield to defend. At the same time the black mobile suit struck at his other side, and he ducked low, spiraling downward and away from the attack. His beam saber came up instinctively to block the beam saber of the Strike look-alike as it dove after him, jarring his arm painfully.

"The pilot of the Strike, right?" that same soft voice cried, the anger and anguish in their tone an ever present contrast to the peaceful lift the voice naturally had.

"What of it?" Kira growled, kicking the mobile suit away from him and diving backwards, dodging a lance thrust that otherwise probably would have stabbed him in the head – and not his mobile suit, either. That same small part of him, the part that still clung to his sanity, even if it was riddled with sadness and anguish brought upon him by the memory of the lives he had taken, wondered what his friends and sister would think of him being so violent and roughly spoken. Again, that part of him was kicked aside by the part of him that delighted in watching the mobile suits fumble around eachother as they all sought to finally land a successful hit on him.

Just what was happening to him? First superhuman senses that vastly surpassed what even SEED could bestow upon him, and now he was enjoying fighting this much? That small part of him that he liked to think was the real him was quivering in fear, hiding away in the deepest recesses of his heart.

"I will have my revenge!" the pilot cried cryptically. And then he was everywhere at once, so fast Kira's eyes were hard pressed to keep up. The other two suits pulled away while he charged, swinging so suddenly that it took Kira a second to realize it was moving considerably faster than everything else was. He managed a block, but the transition from the slow motion things had been moving at to a regular speed made keeping up with the movements rather difficult.

He wondered what had happened to the exceptional output power the suit had been displaying earlier that had allowed it to perform so well, but dwelling on that thought was rather hard with a mobile suit in his face, exchanging blows faster than his head was used to keeping up with. Pure luck kept him from suffering any lasting damage, but by the time he had pulled away and thrown up his shield as a defense, both arms were aching terribly from the strain placed on them.

Before the suit could attack again, a massive beam passed between the two of them mere moments before the Duel crashed into it's side, beam sabers locking together. Kira looked over, seeing the Buster looming nearby with a massive cannon held in both arms, a combination of it's gun launcher and it beam rifle. And pulling up behind it, with the added effect of dampening Kira's mood to an almost sour level, was the Strike Rouge.

"You need a hand?" Dearka called, his amusement overcoming the grim seriousness he'd recently portrayed. Kira wondered which was the side of Dearka peaceful times were graced with.

"Help?" Yzak repeated, aghast. "I'm not helping him!"

Dearka laughed, which was more than Kira could hope of himself at that moment. "Then what are you doing?" As he spoke he fired again, this time driving off the black mobile suit as it tried to close in on Yzak, who was circling the Strike look-alike. Kira swerved to and fro while dodging attacks from both the oddly shielded mobile suit and the one that had previously remained out of the conflict, exchanging blows with a beam saber and the beam lance simultaneously, having finally regained his regular senses – if his SEED senses were to be considered regular.

Yzak growled low under his breath while he deflected another vicious assault from a rather threatening beam saber, acting as a shield between the vengeful pilot of the mobile suit and Kira in the process, even if he didn't quite realize it. "I'm fighting!" he cried, saying nothing more. Evidently, Kira thought, he was easily silenced when he knew he had no answer that satisfied him. Self-serving to a fault, perhaps?

Kira ignored their assistance, confident they could keep the other two at bay while he focused on his two foes at hand, finally managing to kick the oddly shielded suit aside in order to focus on the other. Fighting against a beam saber rather than that lance was infinitely easier, but the comfort of that was relatively short lived. Again the lance returned, coming perilously close to landing into his side while he pulled back. Again the lance came for him, but before he could move Cagalli had grabbed onto his arm and pulled him aside.

"You said we fight together, remember?" Cagalli teased, which would have been a welcome thing to Kira had he not so wholly convinced himself her assistance would no longer be necessary. And it wouldn't have been, were he actually able to understand just what his mobile suit was capable of. Overpowering strength one minute, returning to normal the next... It was hard to understand.

He didn't answer, dodging away from her and kicking at the mobile suit with the strange cylinders, noticing only too late that they had launched two weapon pods much like those used by the Moebius Zero, with a long barreled gun that, from two sides, were both firing at once. He dodged around them, trying unsuccessfully to close in on the mobile suit itself. Cagalli remained close by, trying to shoot down the weapon pods while fending off an offending lance at the same time.

"Kira!" Cagalli cried, frustration replacing that much coveted amusement she'd been showing moments ago. "Stop trying to handle everything yourself! You said it yourself: you may be strong, but you're not alone! Don't force yourself to hold it all on your own!"

Her words hit Kira hard – harder than the beam saber he was presently locked with. Even if he had that strength, would he really be able to fight alone? He was more than capable of holding his own with it, but that strength was far too unpredictable to be worth betting on. But at the same time, the risk of losing Cagalli like they had lost Mwu made his heart clench painfully. More so than becoming a war scarred weapon, being useful for nothing but holding a gun.

While he continued to think on it, the mobile suits suddenly turned around and, without a word, retreated. Watching their retreating forms, Kira couldn't help but think that their situation had just gotten a lot worse.

* * *

He felt sick. Sickeningly sick, in fact. So sick it was a wonder that he was still upright, and not curled into a helpless ball of helplessness near the foot of his bed. What had become of him, to be so into the heat of a battle like that? Never had he felt like that, even as he glared at the Aegis on the fateful day that the universe believed that the traitor Coordinator pilot Kira Yamato had been killed in battle by one of the very Gundams the Earth Alliance themselves had made.

He had wanted to laugh! Laugh! Again his stomach felt light, as though the slightest disturbance might set him off. He had become what he believed to be his sworn enemy, somebody who could find pleasure in a battle, somebody who advocated such conflict. Part of him still tingled from the empowering feeling the Strike-X had given him at first, but now he dreaded so much as looking at it. And piloting it again? Now that he was right of mind, he feared that his nerves may overcome his resolve to continue fighting.

And then there was the people he had wronged all this time. Were they laughing at him in the afterlife, thanking whatever deity truly existed up there for making him succumb to the same base desires that nearly all men felt at some level. Women too, he conceded, but the general consensus was that men were the ones who were violent by nature. The men who had been consumed by that longing for violence, the ones he had killed, were they laughing? Or were they mocking him?

He deserved whatever they thought of him, though.

Kira leaned against the wall, gazing longingly at his bed. He wanted desperately to climb atop it, throw his blankets over his head and disappear forever beneath them. It made him feel like an angsty teen all over again, which was something that, odd though it was, he longed for. Those angsty teens were still living normal lives, which was more than he could say for himself. Being the sixteen year old pilot of a mobile suit recognized all across the universe as either a savior or the most bitter of enemies, an unofficial hero of justice, was hardly normal.

Unfortunately, hiding from the world – universe – wasn't yet an option. Though the eternal night beyond the ship made it hard to tell, it was still rather early, and the threat of those mobile suits returning for another round hadn't yet escaped them. In fact, it was a wonder they had retreated at all; the length of time they had been present for coupled with the fact that there had been no ships nearby save their own suggested they had come quite a distance, which meant they couldn't possibly have been operating on battery power – it would have run out. The thought that either side, since both had the Neutron Jammer Canceler technology, was now making more mobile suits armed with nuclear reactors worried Kira greatly. Having an army of suits with limitless energy supplies could be devastating to their foes, and both sides with them spelled out a bloodbath. And cleaning up a mess like that was no easy feat, even for himself.

Breaking himself free of any annoyingly stray thoughts, Kira made a decision. He needed to reach out to somebody, somebody who could keep him truly sane through all of this. Not just somebody he talked to now and then, or when circumstances allowed, but somebody who could be there for him the moment he needed them. As it stood, he feared they stood to lose far more than what they already had if he lost his sanity in the midst of all of this. If nothing else, they needed to keep their eyes on what needed to be done, and things like enjoying a battle or becoming a violent fighter would not help matters.

In the past, this would have been Lacus. Whether it was her decisive words or her melodic voice, she could always set his worries to rest. When he lost his way, she would be right there to put him back on track. It was because they were partners, people who clung to and depended upon one another. What he needed, then, was somebody who could replace Lacus in his life, both for the sake of his sanity and for the sake of truly being able to set to rest the guilt and depression that lingered within him at the thought of her loss.

He needed Cagalli.

* * *

I'm not entirely sure what to make of this chapter, actually. I liked how it started, and for a while it seemed to be going well. Once I hit the battle, however, I just couldn't find a right way to write it without portraying Kira as omnipotent (not exactly the right word, but it's close enough). And then it all sort of went downhill from there, I thought.

Anyway, to nip any pending questions of why the newly introduced mobile suits are on the same side (providing everybody figures out what they are as easily as I presume they will), the pilots are not the same. Just throwing that out there.


End file.
